


Connected

by bibliomaniac



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, M/M, and this time yuuri is Pissed, victor's bad memory strikes again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8640289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliomaniac/pseuds/bibliomaniac
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri has been waiting for years to get to a point in his skating career where he can meet his childhood friend, Victor Nikiforov, again. But when he finds Victor again, he doesn't remember him. And Yuuri isn't going to take that offense sitting down. He's going to surpass Victor and take his revenge. Victor is just really confused as to why his new skater apparently hates him when they've never met. But then again, he's always liked a mystery.





	1. How Katsuki Yuuri Came To Hate World-Famous Skater And Heartthrob Victor Nikiforov

**Author's Note:**

> *just throws these fanfics at u, rapidfire. u scream at me to stop but i do not. i keep chucking them at u and laughing wildly*
> 
> Yuuri's short is skated to [Beau Soir by Debussy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRCk49vcjjY).

_Will you be with me for always?_

_Yeah, definitely. For always. We can even pinky swear. Like this, see? Now we’re connected._

Yuuri wakes up with a start, his alarm blaring. He rolls over and groans.

Time for practice.

He gets dressed in silence, pausing before he opens the door to stare at the picture of Victor on his wall. 

Scowling, he throws a dart at it. It hits him directly in between his ridiculously beautiful eyes. Bullseye.

He continues out the door, feeling a lot better.

Yuuri Katsuki, age 23, hadn’t always hated the world-famous figure skater and heartthrob Victor Nikiforov. He actually used to be a huge inspiration to Yuuri, and Yuuri had risen through the ranks of the ice skating world at least in part because he wanted to meet Victor again.

Key word: again. When Yuuri was six and Victor ten, Victor had spent a summer in Hasetsu when his family decided they needed a break from the hustle and bustle of St. Petersburg. He still doesn’t know why they picked his sleepy Kyushu hometown, but he had spent three months playing and skating with Victor. He had been his first and best friend, other than Yuuko, who was always more of a defender than a playmate. He had been his first crush, too, though Yuuri would prefer not to remember that.

And then he left, and Yuuri was once more alone.

He had cried a lot at first, inconsolable even with promises of katsudon and extra skating time. Then his tears had dried and his resolve had hardened. He would grow up and become an excellent skater, good enough to meet Victor again on an equal playing field.

He had finally realized his dream at the Grand Prix Finals last year. His nerves had gotten the better of him and he had come in last, but he was still excited, because Victor was there too.

He hadn’t managed to see him off the ice, though, until after a good cry in the bathroom and a confrontation with Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Punk. He was starting to lose hope that he would see him at all when—

“Yuri.”

He brightens at the sound of his name in a familiar Russian accent. But Victor isn’t talking to him, he’s talking to the other Yuri, and he’s walking right past, and—

“Victor!” he yells. He can’t let him walk away. Not again.

Victor whirls around, surprise showing on his face. Then he relaxes. “Oh, hello.”

Yuuri pauses. ‘Oh, hello’? What kind of best-friend-reunion talk is that? But oh well. “Victor, I—”

“Do you want a picture or something? Sorry, I’m sort of busy right now, but—”

Yuuri stands there, the words echoing in his ears.

A picture? Did Victor think he was a fan? Not his best friend, not even one of the skaters competing with him, but a fan?

Blood rushing in his ears, he turns around and walks away. Because if Victor doesn’t even have the decency to remember him, he’s not going to bother with good manners. He can vaguely hear his coach, Celestino, calling after him, but he doesn’t care.

Anyway, so that’s how his pictures of Victor changed from being a shrine to being target practice, and that’s why he hates world-famous skater and heartthrob Victor Nikiforov.

He had fallen into a depression after that. Was he not worth remembering? Is his existence really so meaningless that something that was so important to him was not even worth the smallest memory to Victor? He botches his next few competitions. But then he has a realization.

It’s not him that’s not worth people’s time, it’s Victor. 

From then on, his goal sort of changes. Instead of wanting to meet with Victor as equals, he wants to become better. He’s going to become so good that Victor will meet him and want to talk with him, and then he’s going to ask if Victor wants a picture, like he’s nothing more than a speck of dirt on his otherwise immaculate skates. 

He’s been practicing nonstop since that day a year ago, but now that he graduated college, he’s come back home to Hasetsu to practice on home turf. It had meant he had to end things with Celestino, but he thinks it’ll be worth it in the end, even though he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do about a coach. It’s been five years since he’s been back, and things are different. Yuuko is older now too, and married to his childhood bully Takeshi (which is sort of awkward, but he deals because he’s a professional, dang it.) She has three kids, too. The once vibrant and busy ballet studio he trained at as a child is now mostly empty, except for him, when he has time to spare. Even his home is starting to show its age, and it’s the last standing of the onsen in Hasetsu.

But despite all the changes, it’s still home, and he loves it. He ends his usual loop around the town and heads to Ice Castle Hasetsu.

“Yuuri!” Yuuko says cheerfully. “Right on time, as always.”

“Of course,” he says with a smile. “Punctuality is important if I’m going to be the skater that surpasses Victor Nikiforov.”

He hadn’t explained the incident to anyone else. Yuuko is the only person who he’s told about his new goal, but he thinks she sort of misunderstood, because she just laughs and says, “Wow, you really are just as obsessed with him as you were when you left. It’s cute.”

He scrunches up his face, but doesn’t correct her. Nobody needs to know his business. They’d probably all tell him to let it go, anyway.

He’s been working on choreographing a new routine for himself, starting with his short program. Choreography doesn’t exactly come naturally to him, but he’s worked really hard on this one, and he’s pleased with the results.

He skates out onto the ice to practice.

The music starts—thanks, Yuuko—and he opens his eyes, reaching into the air. 

He does a spread eagle around the rink, then moves into a camel spin. Triple axel. Step sequence into a flying spin, then up into a quad Salchow. Lunge, then quad toe loop, triple loop. He ends with a combination spin, low, then high, hands back in the air.

Yuuko claps as she stops the music. “That was your best rendition yet!”

“Thanks.” He grins shyly. “I’m going to go at it one more time.”

“All right.” She starts the music again and leaves him to it. Knowing her and how well she knows him, she probably put it on repeat.

He only stops when he hears a shriek, and then, “You did WHAT?! Delete it!”

“No!”, and that’s one of the triplets. “Everyone will love it! An exclusive preview of Katsuki Yuuri’s grand return!”

“I don’t care—”

He skates off the ice and travels into the lobby. “Hey, Yuuko, what’s going on?”

“The girls filmed your routine and put it up on Youtube,” she says angrily. “And then they changed my account’s password so that I can’t get in and delete it.” 

“What?!”

“Come on, it’s good!” one of them protests. “It’s already got like a hundred views, and we only uploaded it thirty minutes ago!”

Yuuri sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t suppose you’ll take it down if I say please?”

“No, probably not.”

“Definitely not,” another says decisively.

“Fine. I’m going back in. It’s not like anybody will see it.”

“See, mom?” one of them says triumphantly. “He doesn’t care.”

“Oh, he totally does, and I do too,” Yuuko says sternly. “Just for this, I won’t let you stay up late to watch the regional competitions this year.”

“But moooom!” he hears as the door to the rink closes. 

He goes back out on the ice and loses himself in it so that he doesn’t have to think about the video.

But. He’s right. Nobody will see it. Not anybody important, anyway.

(He is, of course, wrong, and that is where this story truly begins.)


	2. An Icy Reception

“ _How_ many views again?”

“I’d have to check, but…a lot.” Yuuko sighs over the phone. “I really am sorry, Yuuri.”

“Yeah. It’s…fine.” He hangs up.

It isn’t fine. He hadn’t wanted to show the routine to anyone until he had completely perfected it, and now something like half a million people have seen his unpolished version. He hasn’t looked at the comments, but he’s sure they’re all bad.

He takes a deep breath. He has to shake this off. He goes to the rink and skates all day.

The next day when he wakes up, he’s feeling slightly better about everything. He’s even considering forgiving the triplets, maybe moving on, but he isn’t given the opportunity, because he comes down from his room and is knocked down by a dog.

A poodle, to be specific. A poodle who bears a startling resemblance to Yuuri’s own dead dog, Vicchan (and how embarrassing is that, in retrospect), and an even more startling resemblance to Victor Nikiforov’s dog, Makkachin.

“Mom? What’s this doing here?” he yells.

“Isn’t he cute? He came with some good-looking foreigner. He’s in the hot springs right now.”

Good-looking. Foreign. Has a poodle. 

Looks like Victor finally remembered him. He feels his heart begin to lift a little.

He rushes over to the hot springs only to find that Victor Nikiforov is indeed there in all his naked glory. He pointedly avoids looking at aforementioned glory, though, in favor of looking at Victor straight in the face.

“Victor,” he says, irritated. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going to be your new coach!”

Yuuri blinks.

That wasn’t what he expected.

“Are you, now.”

“Yes! I saw your skating video and knew I had to come.”

Suspicion begins to dawn over him. “So you’re here because of the video?”

“Yes!”

“Not because of any other reason?”

“What other reason?” Victor asks, tilting his head confusedly.

Yuuri closes his eyes. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up after all. “You really don’t remember me, do you.”

Victor’s head tilts even further. “Why? Have we met before?”

A blinding anger rises within him and, once more, Yuuri walks out of the room and away from Victor.

He curses himself as he leaves. He should have known. He should have kept up his resolve and not let Victor get to him. Even if he had remembered, would Yuuri really have forgiven him so quickly? Is he really that desperate for validation?

He hears footsteps, and a (still very naked) Victor comes dashing out of the hot springs. “Wait! That retreating back! I know you now! I asked you if you wanted a picture and—”

Yuuri whirls around and yells, “Yeah, and I said no, just like I’m saying no now! I don’t need you to be my coach. I don’t need you at all.”

Victor pouts. “That’s not very nice. I came all this way.”

“And you can go all the way back, too.” Yuuri starts to walk away again, but Victor stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Is this just because I didn’t remember we met at the Grand Prix Finals? I’m really bad with faces, you see, so—”

“It’s not that!”

“Then what is it?”

Something stops him from just telling him everything. He supposes he just doesn’t want the experience to be cheapened by a minute-long best of recap. He just shakes his head.

“Come on. Just give me a chance.”

_“We’ve just met. Why won’t you play with me?”_

_Yuuri nuzzles into his mom’s leg and mutters, “I don’t play with anyone.”_

_“Come on. Just give me a chance. It’ll be fun!”_

Yuuri’s eyes narrow. Now isn’t the time to get sentimental.

Then, he gets an idea. He can use Victor, learn everything he knows, then cast him aside like he means nothing, just like Victor did to him all those years ago. It’s the perfect revenge.

“Fine,” he says, eyes cold. “Be at the rink tomorrow morning at 5:30, and don’t be late.”

Victor pauses, bemused. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“Listen, Victor. I’m going to be the best in the skating world, and if having you as my coach will help me do that, I’m willing to work with you. But I’m not going to go easy on you just because everybody loves you.” Yuuri raises an eyebrow. “5:30.” Then he exits, leaving Victor alone in the hallways of his family’s onsen.

Victor stands there, gaping. He really didn’t expect that. Usually he gets a lot…warmer a reception wherever he goes.

A woman—he thinks she’s Yuuri’s mom—comes into the hallway and pauses. “You’re naked,” she observes.

He looks down. “Oh. So I am.”

“Usually we limit that to the hot springs, but I’ll give you a special exception.” She gives him a thumbs up. “Carry on.”

He beams at her. “Thanks!”

After Victor’s gone to sleep, Yuuri peeks out his door to make sure the coast is clear and goes to find his mom, who’s cleaning up after guests in the communal area.

“Mom. Do you know who the foreigner is?”

“No? He’s a skater, right?”

“Yeah. It’s Victor, Mom.”

She gasps. “Victor Nikiforov? Like the one who—”

“Yeah.”

“His hair is so short now!" she gushes. “I didn’t even recognize him. This is wonderful, Yuuri! He’s finally come back after all this time!”

He sighs. “But not for _me_ , Mom. I mean, sort of, but…he doesn’t remember me.”

She pauses. “Oh, Yuuri.”

“Yeah. So…I need to ask you a favor, okay?”

“What is it?”

“I need you not to tell him about us. None of it, okay? If he doesn’t remember on his own I don’t want him to know about it at all.”

“Yuuri, that’s—”

“Please. Tell Dad and Mari, too. I don’t want that summer being reduced to nothing. It was special to me.” He swipes at his eyes angrily, irritated that he still gets so emotional over this. He should be over it by now. “If it’s not going to be special to him, there’s no point.”

“…Well…okay. I guess I can not mention it. But if he asks me a direct question about it, I’m not going to lie for you.”

Yuuri nods. “That’s fine. He won’t ask. Thanks, Mom.”

“And Yuuri?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” She hugs him, and he smiles into her shoulder. “I’m sorry he forgot.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I’m sorry anyway.” She pats his back one last time, then draws away. “I know how important he was to you.”

“…Yeah. Yeah, he was. But I’m fine.”

That’s a lie. But it’s one he needs to tell if he’s going to get through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol i forgot to put a summary a+ writer as always. it's there now ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> yuuri's mom has prosopagnosia, or face blindness, which is why she didn't recognize victor with his short hair. it's a bit of a handwave but it works
> 
> victor, on the other hand, has no such excuse. he just has a really bad memory lol


	3. Dedication

Yuuri wakes up the next morning and has an anxiety attack. He can’t do this, he thinks, hyperventilating. He can’t pretend being around Victor doesn’t affect him, he can’t get away with his revenge plan without Victor finding out, he can’t surpass Victor in the first place, he can’t, he can’t…

But the anxiety fades, as it always does, and leaves him feeling numb. Maybe he can’t do this, but he has to. So he will.

He gets dressed and goes on his customary jog before getting to the rink at precisely 5:20. He wants to be ready for Victor when he comes. A small victory of sorts.

Victor gets to the rink about seven minutes later. Yuuri is doing warmup stretches and looks up. 

“Hello,” Victor says cheerfully. “I see you’re already getting started. That’s very good!”

Yuuri doesn’t respond, just goes back to stretching. Victor pauses, then sits down next to him.

“Need any help?”

Yuuri shakes his head.

“Want company?”

Yuuri shakes his head again. Victor is staring, and it’s really bothering him.

“Want a hug?”

Yuuri scowls. “Definitely not.”

Victor cheers, raising his hands into the air in triumph. “He talks!”

Yuuri shoots him a glare. “Of course I talk. I just don’t have any interest in talking to you.”

“Ouch! If this is the animosity I get for forgetting someone I’ve met once, I need to put more effort into remembering,” Victor jokes, wincing when Yuuri’s gaze turns murderous.

“You don’t get it at all,” Yuuri mutters. “Just drop it.”

Victor sighs. “Yuuri. You don’t need to like me. Heaven knows there were times that I didn’t like my own coach. But we will need to communicate, at the bare minimum.”

“Yeah. Fine.” He gets up from the mat he’s been stretching on.

“And you’re going to need to listen to me when I tell you things.”

“Like what?”

“Like that your choreography is crap,” Victor says simply. “Good for a first-timer, make no mistake, but I was also able to tell it was your first time. You lack refinement.”

The words hit him like arrows to the heart. He doesn’t want to hear this from Victor. Yuuri clenches his fists and grits his teeth, working carefully to keep his face impassive. “Okay.”

“We can work with the basic components, but I’m going to have to insist that you allow me to change up a few parts. I’ve taken the liberty of preparing something, if you don’t mind?”

“Please.” He keeps his voice monotone, because otherwise he suspects he might start screaming.

Victor skates out on the ice. From the very start, his position is different. Fundamentally, it’s the same, but there’s something about his expression.

The entire program is that way—he can recognize his own work in there, but Victor’s taken it and elevated it somehow. The overall end result is something beautiful.

It pisses him off. 

He’s pissed off at Victor for waltzing in and improving on what he had worked so hard to create, but he’s also pissed off at himself for not being good enough in the first place.

When Victor finishes, Yuuri bursts out, “Why are you here, Victor?”

Victor stops, surprised. “To be your coach.”

“Why? Why me? That—” he gestures wildly at Victor—“was better than anything I ever could have come up with, and you know it, too. Why bother with me? Why are you _here_ , Victor?!”

Victor looks confused at the outburst, but he responds seriously. “The way you skated in that video evoked a kind of…nostalgia, let’s say. Sure, it was unrefined, but you skate with all of yourself. That’s something special, Yuuri, and I guess I just wanted to be part of it somehow.”

What is Yuuri supposed to say to that? He just ducks his head and mumbles, “Okay.”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Victor says, suddenly all smiles again, “want to try replicating what I just showed you?”

“Yeah. But Victor?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t go easy on me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Yuuri skates out to the rink and takes position and starts, mindful of Victor’s gaze on him. But somehow it doesn’t bother him quite as much as it did before.

Victor may seem easygoing, but he’s actually quite exacting as a coach, which is exactly what Yuuri was hoping for. He’s also a bit of a jerk, which Yuuri already knew.

“Yuuri, you’re traveling so much on that spin. Get me a postcard next time!” he calls out with an irritatingly pleasant smile. “Keep your knees in tight, and point your foot more.”

He rolls his eyes at the pun, but does as he’s told.

“Yuuri!” Yuuko calls out from the side of the rink. “Looking good!”

He comes out of the spin and waves.

“Who’s this?” Victor asks curiously. “Your lover?”

Yuuri chokes. “What?! No!”

Yuuko just laughs. “No, I work here. Yuuri’s my friend. Sorry to interrupt, by the way.”

“No, it’s fine. He could probably use the break.” Victor stretches. “I could use one too, honestly. Yuuri?”

“I’m going to try the spin again a few more times, if you don’t mind,” Yuuri says, then does exactly that.

“He’s very dedicated,” Victor comments. 

Yuuko watches fondly. “Yeah, he’s always been like that. When he can’t get something right, it eats away at him. But I guess you know that.”

Victor pauses. “I suppose.”

“I’m really glad you’re finally here,” Yuuko says softly. “He’s been waiting for such a long time.”

“What?”

Yuuri blanches. He had completely forgotten to tell Yuuko to not mention their shared past. “Yuuko! We need to go somewhere private, now!”

“Um, okay?”

Victor watches them leave, utterly confused. What had she meant, he’s been waiting?

Yuuri drags Yuuko to the lobby and hisses, “You can’t talk about us knowing each other.”

She draws back. “What? Why?”

“Because he forgot, Yuuko. He doesn’t remember me.”

She starts to scowl. “That _jerk_.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to hit him for you?”

He laughs. “No, but thanks.”

“So that’s why you changed after the Grand Prix Finals. You met him, didn’t you?”

“Yes. He asked me if I wanted a picture.”

“Seriously?!”

“Right? He didn’t even recognize me as someone competing in the finals with him.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to hit him?”

“I’ll keep the offer in mind,” he says, grinning. It feels good to have someone else supporting him.

“But why didn’t you tell me this from the start, Yuuri?”

He exhales, rubbing his chin, and says in a small voice, “I didn’t want you to think I was pathetic. For caring so much, or for not being worthy of being remembered.”

“Yuuri, I would never think that!”

“Yeah. Sorry. You know how I get.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, I do. And I love you anyway, okay?”

He smiles quietly. “Thanks, Yuuko.”

She puts a hand on her hip and says angrily, “And don’t you dare tell yourself that this is your fault. It’s not that you’re not worthy, it’s that he’s a douche.”

“I’ll try,” he says doubtfully.

She stares at him, then says happily, “I’m going to hit him.”

“Yuuko!”

“I’m going to do it!” she yells over her shoulder, striding to the rink. “You can’t stop me!”

He follows her, giggling helplessly. This is just like when they were kids. “No, I can’t, but—”

She walks up to Victor and slugs him hard in the shoulder. “That’s for Yuuri,” she says simply as he clutches his arm, looking at her in horror. Then she walks away.

“What on earth just happened?” Victor demands in a hushed voice. “She was so nice!”

Yuuri can’t stop giggling. “That’s Yuuko for you.”

“Is everybody in Hasetsu this aggressive?” 

“Nah. Just my friends.”

“Please don’t introduce me to any more of them, then.”

“I don’t really have many to introduce, anyway,” he murmurs as he skates onto the ice, but Victor hears him.

_“I don’t have many friends.”_

_“Well, then I can be your friend!”_

_“Really?” He looks up at him with shining eyes—_

“Victor? I’m going to try the spin again.”

“Okay. Yeah. Remember, pointed toes.”

“Of course.”

Victor watches him spin, but his mind is elsewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> salt: the fanfic


	4. Stay/Go

“Yuuri, say cheese!”

“Huh?”

Victor skates up behind him in a flash and takes a selfie, his face squished up against an obviously irritated Yuuri.

“What was _that_ for?” Yuuri asks, nose wrinkled up in disgust. 

“My Instagram followers were wondering what I was doing!” Victor says cheerfully. “Can’t leave the fans hanging, you know how it is.”

Yuuri stares at Victor, then shakes his head. “Whatever. I’m going back to practicing my Salchow.”

Victor uploads the photo, pouting that his attempt at a bonding exercise had once again failed, and puts down his phone. “Fine, fine. You’ve done it like a million times already, though.”

“Thirteen,” Yuuri calls out, and attempts the jump again. “Fourteen, now.”

“So it’s true,” Yuri grumbles, looking at his phone and throwing it down on his bed angrily. “He’s in Japan with that nobody skater.” He kicks at the air idly, then closes his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to go there too, then.”

The next day, Yuuri has to wade through reporters to make his way into the rink. He rolls his eyes internally at Victor, who had apologized profusely when the reporters showed up, but more publicity isn’t that bad a thing in the end. Even if it’s really Victor’s publicity.

“VICTOR!” someone screams from behind him. He pauses. That sounds less like a fan and more like someone who’s pissed off at Victor. He can sympathize.

He turns around only to come face to face with a furious Yuri Plisetsky.

“You,” Yuri hisses. 

What is it with him and attracting weird Russian figure skaters? He sighs. “What is it?”

“You stole Victor!”

Oh, jeez.

“I’m taking him back to Russia with me!”

Yuuri looks back at the reporters, who are watching, enraptured.

“Look, let’s take this inside, okay?” Yuuri walks into the rink, not waiting to see if Yuri is following him. He knows he will, though.

“Hey, Victor,” he yells as he walks through the door to the rink proper. “Looks like we’ve picked up a stray.”

“Oh?” Victor asks, perking up.

Yuuri flushes red in anger. “I’m not a—”

“Oh, Yuri! What are you doing here?”

“I think he’s in love with you or something. Says I stole you,” Yuuri supplies helpfully.

“I’m not in—!” He’s white now.

“Goodness, Yuri. I never knew you felt that way about me,” Victor says melodramatically. “But you’re too young for me, I’m afraid—”

“Shut up, both of you!” Yuri shrieks. “Do you seriously not know why I’m here, Victor?”

Victor pauses. “I know that face. I forgot something again, didn’t I?”

Yuri looks like he is considering using his skates as a weapon. “You promised you would choreograph my senior debut.”

“Did I?” Victor asks blandly. “That does sound like something I would say I would do.”

“He has a very selective memory,” Yuuri says darkly. Victor shoots him an awkward glance.

“Well…this is a pickle,” Victor says contemplatively. “Do I go back to Russia with Yuri or stay here and coach Yuuri?”

“You can have him,” Yuuri offers. 

Victor’s face falls. Yuri casts Yuuri a suspicious glance. “Really?”

“…Is that what you thought I would say? Of course not. I’m going to surpass Victor, but I need his help first.”

“What? You?” Yuri scoffs. “You’re a has-been past his prime. I’m going to be the one who beats Victor.”

“Does anybody here like me?” Victor queries plaintively, but they both ignore him.

“Really? I have, what, eight years of experience on you? I’m keeping him, and that’s final.”

“And what have you managed to do in those eight years, huh? He’s coming with me, and _that’s_ final.”

“When I dreamed of two men fighting over me, I really had pictured it differently,” Victor says, sounding depressed. 

“We have a proposition,” one of the triplets says, popping up out of nowhere.

“A competition!” another says.

“Yuuri and Yuri will fight to the death for your hand!” the last one exclaims. “People will eat it up.”

“Ooh, I like it!” Victor enthuses. “Sounds dramatic.”

“Right?” a triplet says proudly. 

“Do we get a say in this?” Yuri demands.

“Nope!” Victor says cheerfully. “All right, well, Yuuri already has a short program prepared, so that just means I have to work on one for Yuri. I have something I was working on for next season, but it’ll take me about a week to adapt it.”

“Okay. Fine.” Yuuri sighs, doing his best to hide his pounding heart and shaking legs. “I’m just going to keep practicing, then.”

Victor pauses, peers at him. “No.”

“No?”

“I’m still your coach, and you promised you would listen to me, and I’m telling you to take a break. Off the ice.”

Yuuri frowns, then storms off the ice. Victor follows him soon, into the changing room.

“Yuuri.”

“What?”

“You’re allowed to feel things, you know,” Victor says gently. “You’re allowed to be anxious, and you’re allowed to ask for help, and…” He hesitates, then says, “You’re allowed to want me to stay.” The last statement sounds more like a question.

Yuuri busies himself with taking off his skates. “I don’t.”

“Look, I really don’t understand what your issue with me is. I don’t get a lot of human interaction things, but I’m pretty sure I’m not wrong when I say that not remembering someone I’ve only met once in passing isn’t as big an offense as you’re making it out to be.” 

Yuuri presses his lips together, but doesn’t respond.

“When Yuuko first met me, she said you were waiting for me. What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing to you, and that means it’s not nothing to me,” Victor says softly. 

_“Nothing,” Yuuri says, sniffling. “They didn’t do anything. I’m just being a baby, that’s what they said.”_

_“Don’t be silly. If it hurt you, it’s not nothing, and I want to know about it, okay? That’s what friends do for each other.”_

Yuuri looks away. He hates remembering the past, because it just makes it all the more painful that his present is so different.

“Victor…please just stop trying to understand. This is just how things are, okay?” Yuuri pauses, biting his lip, then says, “Thanks for letting me take a break. You were right. I need to be alone for a while.”

Victor is really starting to get tired of seeing Yuuri walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i did an illustration of the selfie from the beginning of the chapter lol](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com/post/153698981406/a-quick-illustration-of-the-selfie-at-the)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> i'm not so sure about this chapter, but i rewrote the middle portion a couple of times and this was about the best i got so :/ o well. i'll explain more about why yuuri is so ooc next chapter


	5. See You

Yuuri goes to a secluded corner of a storage room of Ice Castle Hasetsu and curls up into it. His breathing starts to come faster as he lets himself go, and then it’s the tears as he gasps for air.

He’s so tired of hiding this. He’s so tired of having to keep up a façade in front of Victor so that Victor doesn’t realize how weak he is. He’s just tired.

And as if that wasn’t already enough to deal with, now he has to deal with Yuri too? And Yuri wants to take Victor away? He can’t. If Victor leaves now, he’ll never get his revenge. Victor will never feel the hurt he made Yuuri feel, and that—and that—

“Yuuri. Come on. Deep breaths, okay?”

He hadn’t noticed Yuuko coming in, but he sort of retreats into himself when he’s having an anxiety attack.

“I—he can’t leave, not yet,” he gulps between shallow breaths. “Not yet, Yuuko, I—”

“Let’s get you breathing first. In and out with me, all right?” she asks gently. It’s not the first time she’s dealt with this, not the first time she’s found him hyperventilating in this exact corner.

He tries to regulate his breathing. It takes a few minutes, but eventually his breathing slows, and his heartbeat along with it.

“Good, Yuuri. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just…” He buries his head in his arms, embarrassed, letting his tears soak into his long-sleeved shirt. “If I lose. If he leaves before I take everything I can from him, then—”

“Then you’ll move on, and you’ll move up, and you’ll make him regret ever leaving you in the first place. Because that’s what you do when you’re in a dark place, Yuuri. You shine.”

He peeks at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, yeah, that was cheesy, but you get what I mean. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m not strong,” he mutters. “I’m just good at faking it.”

“No, that’s not true.” She sits down next to him, starts rubbing his back. “You want to know why Victor pisses me off?”

“Why?”

“Because for those three months when we were kids, he helped you see yourself, and then he left and left you to come tumbling down. And then he comes here, and he just brings you lower. How many times have I found you here in the past month, Yuuri?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Too many. Too many, Yuuri, because you’re a wonderful person and you deserve so much more than this.” She hesitates. “Have you ever considered that him leaving—for good this time—might be better for you?”

He looks up at her. “Why would you say that?”

“Yuuri, ever since Victor came into your life, he’s twisted you around him, and that’s not a healthy place to be. You’ve already seen how much he cares about you, so why does he deserve to have someone like you care about him, even if it’s negative? I know this is one of those things that’s easier said than done, but I think you need to let him go. You’re not that little boy anymore, and neither is he.”

He stares at her. “What are you even suggesting?”

She bites her lip. “Throw the competition.”

He draws away from her, shocked, and exclaims, “I can’t do that!”

“Just think about it.” She pats his back, then gets up. “You know I would come in here as many times as you needed me to, but I think we’d both prefer this was the last time.” She leaves just as quietly as she came.

He takes another ten minutes to compose his roiling thoughts, then breathes deeply and puts back on his indifferent mask.

He walks back out to the rink only to see Victor leading Yuri through a quad Salchow. They look good together, like they fit.

“Oh, Yuuri!” Victor calls out as he notices Yuuri standing there. “Welcome back!”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything as he puts back on his skates, just goes out onto the ice and starts practicing his routine.

Victor frowns as he watches him. His eyes are red and dull, and his movements are precise but completely lacking in his usual emotion. It’s one of the loneliest performances he’s ever seen.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he murmurs to himself. “Why won’t you let me see you?”

Yuri watches Victor watching Yuuri, and he grits his teeth, before he yells, “I’m going to do it again. Watch me.”

Victor’s eyes snap back to Yuri. “Yes, certainly.”

\----------------------------

That night, Yuri shows up at the inn demanding food and shelter. Yuuri’s mother, who is pretty much an angel, accommodates him without complaining. Yuuri, meanwhile, buries himself under his covers in his room, listening to the sounds of good-natured bickering coming from the room in which Victor and Yuri are eating.

His gaze drifts to the poster of Victor on his wall. There used to be a lot more, but he tore all of them down except for this one after he got home. He doesn’t really know why he kept this one. It’s a candid photo of Victor beaming at the camera. He looks happy.

He tears his eyes away and stares at the wall. 

He drifts off, so he’s surprised when he hears an aggressive knock on his door.

It’s Yuri, holding an old photo album. “What’s this?” he demands.

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “Where did you find that?”

“Your sister didn’t clear all of the boxes out of my room. I was bored. Now answer the question.” He whips the book open to a picture of a young Yuuri and Victor smiling at each other on the ice of Ice Castle Hasetsu. 

Yuuri sighs, massaging his head. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you and Victor.”

Yuuri shrugs, as if to say, well, there’s your answer.

“You knew each other?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that why he came here?”

“No. He doesn’t remember me.”

Yuri tilts his head. “You haven’t told him.”

“I don’t want him to know.”

His eyes narrow calculatingly. “Is that so.”

“Yes. Now give that to me.”

Yuri purses his lips, then says slowly, “I don’t think I will.”

“What?”

“You don’t want him knowing, right? And I want him to come back to Russia with me.”

Yuuri stares at the younger boy. “You wouldn’t.”

“Lose. On purpose, I mean. Or I’ll show him this.”

“Really?” Yuuri asks disbelievingly.

“Yes, really. Victor’s place is with me, in Russia, not with some nobody from Japan.” He shrugs in a mocking echo of Yuuri’s from earlier. “Lose.” 

Then he leaves.

Yuuri goes back to staring at the wall, dread seeping over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> baby's first blackmail
> 
> this is all angst lol sorry
> 
> EDIT: i'm doing a giveaway for a fanfic (and fanart if anyone wanted one lol) on my tumblr [here!](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com/post/153712278816/yuri-on-ice-fanwork-giveaway) pls feel free to enter :)


	6. If You Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's program is skated to [Fondu au noir by Cœur de pirate](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSYhd9Et-yc).
> 
> Yuuri's program is, again, skated to [Beau Soir by Debussy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TRCk49vcjjY).
> 
> also i mentioned this in an edit last chapter but if u didnt see it i'm doing a fanfic giveaway! post is [here](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com/post/153712278816/yuri-on-ice-fanwork-giveaway) if you're interested in entering! you don't have to follow me or anything i just wanna write 4 ppl =v=

“All right, Yuri,” Victor announces a week later. “It’s time to show you your program.”

It starts with delicate piano as Victor dances across the ice, then melancholy French words start playing across the speakers. It’s the same required elements as in Yuuri’s program, but the choreography is completely different. It’s just as beautiful, though, and very complex.

“Got it?” Victor asks at the end.

“Yeah, more or less,” Yuri says dismissively.

“The song’s theme is loneliness, so I’ll be looking to make sure you express it well through your performance.” Victor taps his chin contemplatively. “Have you ever felt lonely before, Yuri?”

Yuri pauses. Finally, he says in a small voice, “Yes.”

“Good. Tap into that feeling. Yuuri.”

“Yeah?”

“Keep practicing on your own. I’ll check in with you daily.”

“Okay.”

“You could protest more,” Victor mutters to himself. “Oh well.”

When Victor looks up next, Yuuri is gone.

“Where’s Yuuri?”

“Who knows. Who cares?”

Victor frowns. “Hang on a moment, Yuri. I’ll be right back.” He doesn’t miss Yuri’s scowl.

He goes to find Yuuko with some reluctance. He’s mostly avoided her since she punched him in the arm, and he’s pretty sure she’s done the same. But she’s easy enough to find, working in a back room organizing boxes of something or other.

“Yuuko?” he ventures nervously. “Yuuri’s gone, and I was wondering—”

“Ballet studio,” she responds shortly.

“What? Why?”

“You really think he wants to just sit around and watch you train someone else when you promised yourself to him?” She glares at him. “He’s doing all he can do right now, which is training with a teacher that’s never left him.”

“I’ve never left him either!” he protests.

“Really?” She scoffs. “You organized a competition for that express purpose.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He doesn’t have anything to say to that.

“Look. I don’t like you, Victor. I don’t like what you do to Yuuri. He deserves someone much better than you.” She cocks her head. “But as long as you’re what he’s got, you had better treat him well, or I swear to you, you’ll get much worse than a punch in the arm. Now, if you wouldn’t mind getting out, I’ve got things to do.” The dismissal is clear.

He leaves and goes back to Yuri, but his mind is roiling.

_“You’re leaving?”_

_“I have to go back.”_

_“But…you’re his friend. He needs you. I’ve never seen him happier than he has been this summer.”_

_“He’ll be fine. He’s strong.”_

_“And you? Will you be fine?”_

_“…Yeah. I’ll be okay.”_

_That’s what he says, but really, he’s not so sure._

\-----------------------------------------

The day of the competition finally comes. The turnout is astounding for how little warning they gave. Reporters, Hasetsu natives, and Victor fans from all over are all crowded into the small rink.

Yuri is set to go first. He skates out onto the ice in one of Victor’s old costumes, a blue number from when Victor was around Yuri’s age.

“The first skater tonight will be Yuri Plisetsky from Russia with a program choreographed by Victor Nikiforov. He will be skating to Fondu au Noir by Cœur de Pirate.”

The piano begins, and Yuri takes position. He closes his eyes and thinks of growing up with only his grandfather for company, of all of the people that sneered at him for spending so much time skating and not enough time making friends.

Out of habit, he checks Victor’s reaction to the jump he just made, but Victor isn’t looking at him.

Victor is looking at Yuuri, who’s just entered the room in his own purple costume and is looking more serious than Yuri has ever seen him.

He immediately scowls. Victor should be looking at him. Why is he always looking at that nobody? Why does he never look at him?

He’s aware that he’s not even barely focused on loneliness anymore, because he’s just pissed off. It’s a hard program, and Victor isn’t looking at him, and he wants to be done.

Soon enough he gets his wish. He gives his bows, but he knows that wasn’t his best performance.

He skates off the ice, passing Yuuri. Yuuri stops him with a hand on his arm.

“What?” he hisses, even angrier now.

“I’m not going to lose to you,” Yuuri says calmly.

“But—the picture—”

“Show it to him if you want. I’d rather have him know than lose my pride as a skater.”

Yuri stares at him, stunned. Victor walks up to them both just as Yuuri drops Yuri’s arm.

“Yuri, great job out there!” Victor says cheerfully. “I’m going to talk to Yuuri now.”

“Fine.” He storms off to lean against a wall, observing.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at Victor. “You going to give me a pep talk?”

Victor laughs awkwardly. “I was going to try, yes.”

“Go for it, then.”

“Look. I know…we haven’t exactly gotten along. But I want you to know that, however this turns out, I’ve loved having the opportunity to be your coach. I don’t know why, honestly. Quite frankly, you’ve been a jerk to me. But…there’s something about you that draws me, and even if we’re not together, I feel like we will always be connected somehow. So thank you for that if nothing else, because that’s not something I’ve felt in a long time.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “You…”

“Yuuri?”

Tears start to flow freely from Yuuri’s eyes. “You can’t say that!”

Victor draws back, confused. “What?”

“People who tell me that always leave, and you’re not going to leave again!” Yuuri yells, swiping at the tears falling down his face. “I won’t let you. I’m going to go out there and skate my best, and you’re going to stay right here, and I don’t care what Yuuko or Yuri or anyone else say about it!”

“Yuuri—” Victor pauses, confused. “I don’t—”

“I’m going to be the one who surpasses you, and I’m going to tangle you around me so that you’ll never be able to go, you bastard.” Yuuri wipes away the last of his tears and looks steadily at Victor. “So watch me, and don’t look away.”

“…Okay.”

“Good. Glad we understand each other.” Yuuri skates onto the ice, leaving Victor behind with his eyes fixed firmly on Yuuri wonderingly.

“Next up is Katsuki Yuuri from our very own Hasetsu, Japan. He’ll be skating a program co-choreographed by himself and Victor Nikiforov to Beau Soir by Debussy.”

From the moment Yuuri starts, Yuri knows he’s lost.

He’s not going to get a perfect technical score, but he skates like the music is a part of him, and Victor…Yuri checks. Victor is completely engrossed. He wouldn’t dream of tearing his eyes away to look somewhere else, like he did with Yuri.

So, he leaves before the results are up. It might be petty, but Yuri isn’t afraid to admit that he’s a petty person.

The girl who works at the rink, Yuuko, stops him as he’s leaving. “Yuri.”

“What?” he snaps.

“The photo album. I know you have it.”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I want you to give it to me.”

“Why would I do that?”

She shrugs. “It doesn’t belong to you. Plus, I want the same thing as you do. I want Victor to leave. I think I can come up with a way to do that, but I need the photo album first. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yuri says suspiciously, pulling it out of his backpack and handing it over. “I don’t really want it anyway.”

She smiles. “Thank you.”

And then he’s off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuri "was originally going to travel back to russia with another family's pilfered photo album" plisetsky
> 
> nishigori "pilfers another's family's previously pilfered photo album" yuuko


	7. Caring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: alcohol use

Yuuri won.

He is having difficulty believing it, really. He doesn’t even really remember what happened after he went onto the ice too well. He was panicking about the picture, but then a sudden and unexpected calm overtook him and he just…was. 

Victor is grinning at him and telling the cameras that they’re going to the Grand Prix Finals together, and Yuri is gone, and Yuuri feels content for the first time in a really long while.

Minako comes up to him after he gets off the ice and hugs him tightly. “Good job out there! I guess all that extra time you spent at the studio paid off, huh?”

“Guess so. Thanks for letting me come over.”

“Of course, Yuuri. You know I’m on your side.”

Victor appears by Yuuri, beaming. “Is _this_ your lover, then?”

Minako glares at him. “Piss off.”

Yuuri purses his lips to keep from giggling. “She’s my ballet teacher and friend.”

“Oh.” Victor’s smile turns pained. “What exactly do you tell all of your friends about me, Yuuri?”

Yuuri shrugs. “Only the truth.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you were sent to this earth to keep me humble,” Victor murmurs. “Well, all right. I won’t intrude any further.”

Minako watches him leave, then sighs. “He may be a jerk, but he really is attractive.”

“Minako!”

“What? I know for a fact you had a copy of that underwear photoshoot he did a few years back, so don’t try and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, mister.”

Yuuri laughs helplessly. “Fine, you caught me.”

“I know you too well,” Minako says smugly, ruffling his hair. 

Victor watches from a distance, frowning, until another set of reporters comes up to him to ask him questions. Then he puts on his best media smile and looks away from the clear evidence that Yuuri is happier with about anyone who’s not him.

He shouldn’t let it get to him, really, except for Yuuri had hit closer to the mark than he perhaps intended when he talked about tangling Victor around him. Something about his skating, something about how he’s hard and soft all at the same time, something about the questions surrounding him have made it increasingly harder for Victor to let go of the mysterious skater. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but maybe that’s part of why he agreed to the competition in the first place—an opportunity to get away before he got in too deep. But he thinks he probably knew all along that he already was inextricably, inexplicably entangled with Yuuri.

He gets incredibly drunk that night and ends up at Yuuri’s door. “Yuuri,” he slurs. “Lemme in. Come on, come on, come on—”

Yuuri opens his door, expression indiscernible. “Victor.”

“Yuuri,” Victor says happily. “You’re here.”

“Yeah. Where else would I be? Question is, why are you here?”

Victor pauses, thinking over his answer. “Feels right.”

“Hm.” Yuuri sighs. “You’re drunk, Victor. Let’s get you back to your room.”

“Don’t wanna go back,” Victor says, pouting. “Wanna stay with you.”

Yuuri stares at him, then huffs. “Why couldn’t you have said that seventeen years ago, huh?”

Victor blinks at him, not understanding. Yuuri rolls his eyes. “All right, guess we’re doing this the old-fashioned way.” He hikes Victor up from the floor and starts walking him over to his room. “This would be a lot less awkward if you had clothes on, you know.”

“Don’t like ‘em. Itchy.”

“Sure.” He exhales, and his breath flutters over Victor’s ear. “You know, I spent years wondering why you never said you wanted to stay. It was always, no, you’ll be fine, you’re okay, we’re connected, blah blah blah.”

Victor’s eyes slide shut slightly, but Yuuri continues. “It took me a long time to figure out that you were talking to yourself as much as you were to me. At least that’s what I thought until I found out you didn’t remember me, and then I just wondered if you never said it because you just never cared.”

They reach Victor’s bedroom, and Yuuri lays a half-asleep Victor down on his bed. “All right, there you are.” 

“Yuuri?” Victor whispers, yawning.

“Yeah?”

“I always cared.”

Yuuri stops in his tracks at the door, then shakes his head. “Good night, Victor.”

_“Mama, can’t we stay here?”_

_“You know we can’t, Victor.”_

_“But—”_

_“But nothing. We have a life in Russia. One Japanese boy doesn’t change that. I don’t want to hear you utter a word about it again.”_

_“…Yes, Mama.”_

Victor wakes up with the sound of birdsong in his ears and light streaming in weakly through his windows, the dream and all of last night slipping away as soon as he opens his eyes.

He gulps when he realizes it’s already 8:30. Yuuri is going to be _pissed_. He chuckles slightly at the thought. Who’s the coach in this relationship again?

He’s surprised, then, when he gets to the rink and Yuuri just raises an eyebrow at him. He’s expecting the silent treatment again, at the very least, but Yuuri says, “What are you waiting for? You’re already late, get in here.”

“You’re being almost nice today,” Victor comments.

Yuuri pauses mid-spin. “Not nice. Just tired.”

“Hm.” He tilts his head. “Maybe that’s why your spin is abysmal. Whatever happened to pointing your toes?”

“Whatever happened to being on time?” Yuuri shoots back, and Victor laughs.

“Okay, okay. I apologize. Point your toes, though.”

“All right.”

They go through a couple more warmups, before Victor asks, “Have you put any thought into what song you want to use for your free skate?”

“Yeah, actually.” Yuuri pulls out his phone and passes it and his headphones over.

Victor listens, nodding his head along. “I don’t understand the Japanese, but I like it.”

“It’s about how our fear keeps us back from recognizing that we’re all free. I think it’s applicable.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think this will work just fine.” 

Yuuri smiles at him hesitantly, and in that moment, Victor thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

Maybe that’s the hangover talking, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minako had a copy of the legendary underwear shoot herself so she really shouldnt be casting stones


	8. Idols

Yuuri wasn’t lying when he said he was tired, but he didn’t just mean physically. He’s tired of always being blatantly antagonistic towards Victor. So he tones it down a little. He still is hurt, and he still wants to surpass Victor, but he isn’t going to keep wasting his energy on being openly hateful.

Victor seems nonplussed by the change, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop any day. But eventually he seems to accept it, and they move into an unspoken truce of sorts.

Time passes as practice goes on, and it’s finally time for Yuuri’s first event of the season, the Chugoku, Shikoku, and Kyushu Championship. He tries not to get nervous, but it’s hard when there’s so much pressure to succeed. Victor isn’t exactly helping with his constant cheerful comments to the press about how this isn’t a big deal for Yuuri, how Yuuri’s going to sweep the competition no problem, and so on.

He looks away from his coach talking with the reporters and makes eye contact with some short kid with blonde hair with a red streak. The kid immediately flushes deeply and waves shyly. He waves back, then looks back towards Victor absentmindedly.

Soon enough, the skaters are drawing their places in the lineup, and Yuuri gets first, because his luck is terrible and the world hates him. The kid who had waved at him is apparently a skater too, because he draws too and gets the coveted last spot.

“Yuuri!” the kid calls out happily as he runs up to Yuuri after the drawing. “I’m so excited to see you skate! I hear you co-choreographed your program this year. That’s so cool.”

“Well, thanks, um…”

The kid’s face falls. “Kenjirou Minami. We…were both in Nationals last year, remember?”

Now Yuuri feels awful. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t process much of anything last year. I was in a really bad headspace.”

“No, it’s okay.” Minami pauses. “Uh, your coach looks like he wants to say something.”

Yuuri shrieks as a hand comes down hard on his shoulder. He hadn’t even known Victor was behind him. He’s beaming. “It’s so funny that you don’t remember this fine youngster here, because I _seem_ to recall you giving me the cold shoulder for _months_ for the _exact same reason_ —”

Yuuri shrugs off the hand, immediately in a bad mood. “It was a different reason.”

“That he won’t tell me,” Victor whispers to Minami conspiratorially. “He’s a man of mystery, this one.”

“I know,” Minami gushes. “It’s part of his charm. That innocent-looking exterior hiding an inner fire—”

Yuuri coughs awkwardly. “Sorry, but I need to get ready for my turn.”

Minami nods, but he seems a bit down. “Yeah, definitely! I’ll be watching!”

Yuuri starts walking away, Victor following him, now frowning. “Why were you so cold to him? He clearly idolizes you.”

“He should learn sooner than later that his idols aren’t all they’re made out to be,” Yuuri mutters, but Victor hears him.

“That’s pessimistic. What, did one of your idols let you down?”

Yuuri doesn’t respond.

“So, yes, then. Who?”

Yuuri presses his lips together and looks away.

“…Wait. Me?” Victor gasps. “It is me! You never said anything, Yuuri, I—”

“It wasn’t important. Ancient history. Let it go.”

“Is that why you were so offended I didn’t remember you?”

“I wasn’t offended, I was hurt,” Yuuri snaps, done with it all, and so, so tired. “I spent years trying to get to you, and when I did, you didn’t even realize I was a skater, Victor! You thought I was just another fan, and—” He shuts his mouth, shaking his head, everything rushing back and rising in him. “You didn’t see me, Victor.”

Victor doesn’t seem to know how to respond to that. Eventually, he says in a quiet voice, “Yuuri, you don’t _let_ anyone see you.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen minutely. Then he says, voice cracking, “Well, I know whose fault that is.” Then he turns and skates onto the ice.

Victor sighs, not noticing Yuuko’s narrowing gaze.

Yuuri skates his program, and it’s enough to put him into first place, but Victor can tell something’s a little off from his normal practice.

The reporters pull Yuuri away to interview him while the other skaters go on. Yuuri couldn’t find Victor, for some reason, so he’s interviewing alone. Minami comes out after a while, breathless, asking, “Yuuri, did you see that? I landed a triple axel!”

“Oh, sorry,” Yuuri says, feeling again like the scum of the earth. “I was being interviewed.”

Minami’s eyes begin to water. “But…I even patterned it after your Lohengrin performance!” He opens his coat to reveal a costume that is indeed stunningly similar to one of Yuuri’s past costumes.

Yuuri blanches. He remembers that performance. He had himself copied over a lot of elements from one of Victor’s past programs. “I don’t really want to remember that.”

“Why not?! It was amazing!”

“It was shameful.”

“Your past makes you who you are today, and there’s no shame in that,” Minami says, waggling his finger at Yuuri. Then he smiles sheepishly. “That’s what my mom says, anyway.”

“Who I am, huh?” Yuuri whispers. Does he even know who that is? He’s spent his entire life trying to be Victor, then trying to be better than him. Yuuko was right, he realizes all of a sudden. All of it has always been about Victor, whether positive or negative. When will his life finally be about him? “Who am I?”

He doesn’t even realize he’s said it aloud until Minami shouts, “You’re Katsuki Yuuri! You’re a champion figure skater and the future of Japanese figure skating—no, the future of the world’s figure skating! And you’re my hero, even if you don’t want to be.”

Yuuri pauses, then smiles softly, reaching out to pat Minami’s head. Minami looks like he’s about to faint. “Thank you. I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

“Yeah,” Minami says breathlessly.

“And Minami?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll be watching your program, so please watch me too, all right?”

“Of course! Thank you! And good luck!”

“Good luck.” He waves goodbye, looking around for Victor. He still has around a half hour until his free skate starts, but it’s not like Victor to be gone for so long, especially when there are reporters around.

He doesn’t have to look too hard, though. Victor is running towards him, breathing hard, eyes wide and wild.

“Yuuri!” he exclaims, then takes a picture out of his suit pocket, holding it as carefully as if it were made of glass. “What is this?”

Yuuri peers at the photo.

It’s the picture of him and Victor as kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN (?)
> 
> also i wrote a silly little story about phichit & co planning a victuuri wedding [here](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com/post/153767573396/okay-so-imagine-phichit-and-all-of-his-skater)


	9. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's FS is set to [Niji wo Matsu Hito by BUMP OF CHICKEN](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILz87f2iX7M). Warning, music video contains cultural appropriation (singer is wearing a Native headdress).

Yuuri goes completely white. “W-where did you get that?”

“Yuuko. She said something about wanting to show me why I hurt you so I would finally leave. I don’t really understand what she means, but she told me to ask you about it, so—do you know the person in this picture, Yuuri?”

Yuuri’s racing thoughts freeze.

What.

“I’ve been looking for him for years, so if you know who he is—”

Yuuri stares at Victor, who’s running his hands through his hair, looking incredibly agitated.

“Are you being serious with me right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Really. You…really?” Yuuri groans, dragging his hands over his face. “My best friend gives you a picture of you with a young Japanese boy with a large Y on his shirt and your first question is if I _know him_?” 

“So…you do?” Victor asks hopefully.

Yuuri looks at Victor incredulously. 

“Wait.” Victor squints at the picture, then at Yuuri. “Wait, wait, wait. No. You…you?”

Yuuri sighs. “Yes, Victor.”

Victor squeals. There’s really no better word for it. Then, he gathers Yuuri up into the most gigantic hug he’s ever received, twirling him around once for good measure. “I finally found you,” he whispers into Yuuri’s neck. “Finally.”

He sets Yuuri down gently. Yuuri is still processing his words. “What did you mean, you’ve been looking for me? I thought…” He pauses. “Victor, you didn’t remember me.”

“Of course I did!” Victor exclaims. 

Yuuri gives him an unimpressed look.

“Well, I mean…I forgot your name, and your face, and where you lived, but…everything else is right here.” He taps his heart. “Yuuri, I could never forget the happiest summer of my life. I could never forget _you_.”

Yuuri ducks his head, staring at his feet.

“Is this…is that why you’ve been so angry at me all this time? Oh, Yuuri. Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks, sounding heartbroken. “All of these months we’ve wasted, and—”

“And that’s not my fault!” Yuuri bursts out. “You _left me_ , Victor. I wrote you letter after letter, and you never responded, and then I decided the only way I could get to you again was to become as good a skater as you were. And I finally got to meet you again and you asked if I wanted a picture! A picture, Victor! What was I supposed to say—oh, actually, I already have tons of pictures of us together when we were kids, sorry I apparently didn’t make an impression?!”

“Of course you made an impression, how could you ever think otherwise? You were my first real friend, the first person who—wait, what do you mean you wrote letters?”

“One every day for months,” Yuuri mumbles, crossing his arms. 

“Yuuri, I never got any letters.” Victor sounds confused. “I—oh.” His face transforms. Yuuri thinks it’s probably the first time he’s ever seen Victor look truly angry. “My mother.”

“What about her?”

“She never liked you—thought you were a distraction. She was in charge of the mail in our household.” Victor shuts his eyes, as if remembering something painful. “Yuuri, I’m so sorry. I swear to you, I never meant to hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, you did.”

Victor’s face falls.

“But.” Yuuri looks skyward, questioning his decision, then eventually says, “I suppose it was a little bit my fault too.”

Victor is beaming now. 

“But mostly yours,” Yuuri adds. “Seriously, seeing my name didn’t even ring the smallest bell?”

“I’m really, really bad with names. And faces. And, well, promises, and directions, and pretty much—”

Yuuri holds up his hand to stop Victor, but his lips are quirked upward. “Yeah, I get it.”

Victor can’t stop smiling. “I can’t believe I actually found you,” he marvels. “Look at you! You’re so big now.”

“That is what tends to happen over the course of seventeen years, yes,” Yuuri deadpans. 

“You’re also a lot less prone to getting spontaneously naked—”

“I was six!” Yuuri yells, turning red.

“—which, in my opinion, is a crying shame.” Victor winks. 

Yuuri turns redder, but manages to eke out, “You engage in enough spontaneous nudity for the both of us.”

“There is never enough nudity in the world, in my opinion,” Victor sniffs delicately. “Anyway, isn’t that kid up next?”

“His name is Minami. But yes. Let’s get closer, actually. I want to cheer him on.”

Victor grins. “Change your mind about idols?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just sort of realized that everyone is human, and maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.”

True to his word, Yuuri watches Minami’s entire program, clapping and whooping wildly the whole time. There are two skaters after that before Yuuri is on, so Yuuri goes off to stretch, Victor close behind him.

When he returns, he feels an odd calm wash over him. That’s right. He’s human too, and he can only do his best. He starts to skate out, pausing when Victor calls out to him.

“What?”

Victor smiles shyly, then reaches out his hand to link his pinky with Yuuri’s. “Show everyone what you’ve worked so hard for. Let them see you.”

“…Yeah. I will. Thanks.”

The music begins.

Victor still doesn’t exactly understand the lyrics, but upon Victor’s request, Yuuri had given him a rough translation. To Victor’s recollection, they go something like:

_In my sleepless body, a sound leapt and ran_  
_In the darkness from closing my eyes, I create my own color_

Yuuri moves in a lunge across the ice.

_I quietly embrace the pain of being unable to say anything, and sing_  
_Worn out emotions are moving despite being broken_

An Ina Bauer.

_In the room surrounded by invisible walls_  
_I am certainly touched by life_

His first jump, a quad toe loop, double toe loop combination.

_Oh… there’s no key for that door_  
_Oh… there’s no key for that door_

Flying sit spin.

_I just never knew how to open it because I never tried_  
_Oh… I’ve been free all along_

Quad Salchow. Yuuri steps out, but gets enough rotations. 

_I quietly embrace the pain of coldness, and pray_  
_Let’s warm our cold bodies_

Camel spin.

_The sound knows every corner of our bodies trying to live_  
_Even if we open our eyes, it’s the same, the color we create ourselves_

_When the invisible wall can be seen_  
_There’s a beyond, I can see people_

Triple loop.

_Oh… under the rain that calls forth the rainbow_  
_Oh… everyone is under the same rain_

Triple axel. Victor can hear Minami screaming happily.

_We cannot connect well, but still we laugh_  
_Oh… we’re waiting for the same rainbow_

Choreographic sequence during the guitar solo.

_Oh… (a sound leapt and ran)_

Triple flip.

_Oh… (a sound leapt and ran)_

Triple axel, single loop, triple Salchow.

_Oh… (the sound knows every corner)_

Triple lutz, triple toe loop.

_Oh… (of our bodies trying to live)_

_Possibly, we’ve realized, we were only scared_  
_Oh… wherever we go, we’ll always be free_

Quad toe loop.

_Oh… there’s no key for that door_  
_Oh… there’s no key for that door_

Combination spin.

_We cannot connect well, but still we laugh_  
_Oh… we’re waiting for the same rainbow._

He ends with his arms in a circle over his head, then floating down to create the image of the rainbow.

The crowd loves it. Minami is sobbing, which Victor _thinks_ is a good sign? And Yuuri is smiling at him again, and Victor really wants to hug him.

So he does. 

(He loves that he can do that now.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *carefully transfers over all of the elements of Yuuri's canonical FS* shhh u saw nothing,
> 
> if u look in the distance u can see me at the sink washing my hands of this chapter bc something feels off about it but i am Done. besides lets be real here when do i ever like my chapters lol


	10. Six

“Yuuuuuuuuriiiiiii,” Victor calls out plaintively from behind Yuuri’s closed door. “Come on, we used to sleep together all the time!”

“When I was six!” 

Yuuri can already see Victor’s pout in his mind. He’s been subjected to it enough. “Fine, I don’t have to sleep here, but let’s talk, at least!”

Yuuri sighs. “Victor—”

“I just want to get to know you again, Yuuri. Like before. Won’t you let me?”

Yuuri finally opens the door, scowling. “One hour maximum. And you are not sleeping in here.”

Victor lights up. “Yay! I brought nail polish. Just like old times. I couldn’t remember your favorite color, so I brought all of them.”

“It’s blue,” Yuuri mumbles. “Light blue.” He doesn’t say that it’s the same color as Victor’s eyes. That’s heading back into old, painful territory.

Victor rummages around in his bag, beaming when he finds a powder blue polish. “Got it.”

They both sit down on the floor, and Victor starts on Yuuri’s left foot with careful, precise strokes.

Yuuri doesn’t know how to feel about any of this. It’s midnight, he’s tired, and he’s really not completely certain he’s fully forgiven Victor yet. Victor obviously wants to pick back up right where they left off, but he’s ignoring seventeen years of history, of hurt. Yuuri isn’t the same kid he was back then, and he doesn’t want to pretend like he is.

Victor, oblivious to Yuuri’s internal struggle, asks, “So, what do you want to talk about? Ooh, let’s talk about love!”

Yuuri looks away, irritated. That’s a sore subject, especially given part of the reason he’s never really thought about love is because his life has been entirely consumed by Victor since he left all those years ago.

“Surely you’ve been in love?”

“No,” Yuuri says shortly. “I’d really prefer not to talk about it.”

Victor pouts. “You would’ve before.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself from the wave of anger that rises in him. “Well, as I keep trying to inform you, I’m no longer six.”

“No. No, you’re not.” Victor pauses, then resumes painting Yuuri’s toenails. “So, really, there’s nobody?”

“What do you want me to say, Victor?!” Yuuri bursts out. Victor startles, the applicator in his hand slipping. “Do you want me to tell you that I haven’t had a crush in seventeen years? Is that what you want to hear? Do you want to hear about how I’ve been so focused on ice skating, on trying to find you again, that I never had time to even think about love or dating or anything else? Do you want to hear how pathetic I feel for being so obsessed with someone who couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name? What do you _want_ from me, Victor?!”

Victor opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything. The silence grows between them, both of them staring at the jagged line of blue on Yuuri’s toes awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri finally says. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you, or…you’re right. You’re not six anymore. I shouldn’t treat you like you are. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Victor looks at Yuuri closely. “You don’t have to say that.”

Yuuri shrugs, burying his head in his arms. “No. I should probably let it go already.”

“Yuuri, I hurt you. I know that. Don’t minimize it for my sake. Let me take responsibility.” Victor sighs as he fetches a tissue to wipe off the errant line of nail polish. “I was sort of hoping that by jumping right back in to where things once were I could show you that I really did remember, that I really do care. But I’m well aware that I don’t get a lot of things to do with human interaction, so if I’m doing something that makes you uncomfortable, I really want you to tell me, okay?” 

“…Okay. Thanks.”

“Do you even still like nail polish? I realize now that I never asked.”

Yuuri laughs quietly. “Yes, I still like nail polish.”

“Good,” Victor says decisively. “You do mine next. I like purple.”

“Some things never change, huh?” Yuuri comments, beginning to look through the bag, then making a triumphant noise when he finds a shimmery purple. 

“Yeah.” When Yuuri looks up, Victor is smiling softly. “Some things never change.”

\------------------------

The next day, Yuuri goes into the rink for practice for the first time since the championship event, his place in the Grand Prix now secured. He’s not really surprised that Yuuko is there waiting for him at the door. She’s never really been one to avoid her problems.

She bows formally as soon as he gets there. “Yuuri, I’m sorry.”

“Why did you do it?” he asks. 

“I thought…I saw what he did to you, and it made me mad, so I got the photo album from Yuri, and I thought if I explained to him what he’d done then he would understand why he had to leave.” She scratches the back of her head. “It didn’t really work out like I had planned.”

“You shouldn’t have gone behind my back.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to say it’s okay right now, but…I understand why you did it, and I know you were trying to look out for me.” He smiles fondly, and she relaxes slightly. “I can protect myself now, you know. I’m not a kid.”

“Yuuri, I don’t—I never protected you because I thought you weren’t strong enough to do it yourself. I do it because you’re my friend, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hugs her. “Thanks.”

“Yuuri, come on, it’s time for practice!” Victor calls out from the rink. He has an odd look on his face. 

“Coming,” Yuuri yells.

Yuuko is pursing her lips speculatively. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he sounded jealous just now.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Luckily you do know better.”

“Mmmhmmm. You sure he doesn’t have a thing for you? He did put up with you being a pissy jerk for months. Maybe he’s into that sort of thing.”

Yuuri pulls a face. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“What, about Victor being M?” she teases. 

“About him having a crush on me,” he says dryly. “It’ll never happen, okay? Now get. I need to practice.”

“Sure, sure.” She pauses, eyes gleaming. “Try, like, knocking him over on accident, though, and seeing if he likes it. I’m curious now.”

“Yuuko!”

“What?” They’re both laughing now.

“Yuuri!” Victor’s voice comes again. “Now!”

“Okay!” He runs off with a wave. She waves back, shaking her head.

“Oh, he’s totally jealous,” she mutters to herself as she begins cleaning the counters. “Those boys, I swear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trying to avoid spoilers for the new ep is like trying to navigate a laser field except the ENTIRE ROOM IS LASERS
> 
> just a note: i'm trying to write these relationships as realistically as i can, but i only have my own experiences to draw from, so i may get things wrong. i apologize if so. that said, i can only write how i write ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ so if u have a critique, by all means tell me, but please try to be polite about it if possible! thanks!


	11. Enough

Victor shows up outside Yuuri’s room again that night, and the next, and the one after that. It becomes a tradition of sorts. They sit and just talk for an hour or so. At first the topics are fairly mundane—remember-whens, likes and dislikes, opinions—but as time goes on they go deeper, into family and fears and the times where they’ve felt lost and inadequate.

“I never really felt that my mother loved me, or even liked me,” Victor says thoughtfully one day. “I think she liked what I could do for the family, but she resented me wanting to do anything else. School, friends, life; everything went to the backseat when it came to skating. Honestly, I hated it for a while, and I hated myself for hating it because I thought if I were a good son, I would love it for her. It took me a long time to get past that and get to a point where I loved skating on its own terms and not on my mother’s.”

Yuuri takes Victor’s hand for a moment, squeezes it in a silent sign of comfort. Hesitantly, he says, “I always felt the opposite, really. I knew my mom loved me, and I knew I loved skating, but I thought if I really loved my parents I would do something more…concrete with my life? Become a businessman, maybe, with a steady paycheck. Help out with the inn like Mari did. I don’t know. They all support me because they’re wonderful people, but I can’t help but wonder sometimes if I haven’t let them down.”

Victor squeezes back. “I don’t think anybody can look at your skating and feel let down, Yuuri.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, smiling down at his lap. 

“You need to have more confidence in yourself, in your ability to astound people with your skating. But to do that, you must first have confidence in your ability to charm people just by being yourself.”

Yuuri huffs, stretching. “Thanks, discount Dr. Phil.”

“It’s true!” Victor insists, pouting. “And I’m not discount anything, thank you very much. If anything, I’m a super deluxe premium Dr. Phil.”

“And so modest.”

“Of course.” They take one look at each other, then burst into giggles.

“Victor?” Yuuri says with a yawn. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Yeah,” Victor says quietly. “Me too.”

Yuuri’s eyes dip closed, and Victor pats his shoulder. “All right, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m not—” He yawns again. “That tired, really.”

“Sure. Come on. Need me to tuck you in?”

Yuuri grins, rolling his eyes and shoving Victor. “Of course not.”

“Aw. _Want_ me to tuck you in?” He winks.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Double aw. Well, another night, perhaps. And you’re sure you don’t want company?”

Yuuri laughs sleepily. “Get out, you menace.”

He leaves Yuuri’s room that night with a silly smile that stays all the way to his bed, where he flops down and tries not to think about how much he wishes Yuuri would let him stay.

…As…friends. Of course.

\------------------------

Yuuri’s first event in the Grand Prix is the Cup of China. He and Victor wave goodbye to everyone before they make their way to the airport. Yuuko takes one look at Victor, who has his arm slung lazily around Yuuri’s shoulders, and raises her eyebrow. Yuuri gives her a look and shakes his head minutely.

She mouths, “watch this,” and runs forward to hug Yuuri tightly, getting close and whispering in his ear, “Totally jealous,” then steps backward, smiling. 

Victor frowns, pulling Yuuri closer. “What did she say?”

“Nothing,” Yuuri says pointedly, glaring at Yuuko. “Nothing important, anyway. Let’s get going.”

Victor looks at Yuuko, who is trying not to laugh. Then he looks at Yuuri’s mom, who is hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Seriously, what did she say?!”

“We’re going to be late!” Yuuri says hurriedly, tugging on Victor’s hand. “So, um…yes, we’re leaving. See you!”

Victor purses his lips, but follows after Yuuri, silently relishing in the warmth of Yuuri’s hand entwined with his. 

The plane ride is slightly awkward, mostly because Victor is apparently a plane elitist and partly because, after declaring over-loudly that he can’t sleep in such a small space, he evidently decided that he’d solve the problem by getting all up in _Yuuri’s_ space. Yuuri nudges Victor a few times, hissing, “This is embarrassing, get off,” but Victor is dead asleep. 

Yuuri watches him for a while, just thinking. He still wishes things could’ve gone differently—that Victor had remembered his name, that they had found each other sooner, that Victor had had different parents, anything—but he knows by now that Victor truly hadn’t meant to hurt him. That doesn’t mean he didn’t, of course, but with every sincere smile and shared laugh, he’s getting closer to forgetting all of that.

That makes him incredibly nervous.

Yuuri doesn’t know if he’d like to think of himself as the type of person who holds grudges, but he _would_ like to think that he’s the type of person that doesn’t get fooled twice. With every inch of distance that decreases between him and Victor, his anxiety increases. Part of him knows that Victor won’t stay forever. He has until the Grand Prix Final, assuming he gets in, and then what? Victor says, well, it’s been fun, but you’re not useful to me anymore? Best case scenario, they email each other when Victor goes back to Russia, every day, and then every week, then every month, then once a year at the holidays. Yuuri doesn’t want that. 

But every attempt he’s made at creating distance between them has failed. Despite all of his reservations, he’s drawn to Victor, and he doesn’t know how to make that stop.

Another part of him whispers that if he asked Victor to stay, he would. It’s the same part that notices Victor staring just a little longer than normal, that catalogues every lingering touch and bright smile.

But even if that part isn’t just imagining things, he knows he could never do that. Not to Victor, not to himself. Victor wasn’t made to be tied down by someone like him, and Yuuri doesn’t have the confidence to ask anyway, not when there’s even the slightest chance that Victor could laugh at him and say no.

_“You’re leaving?” Yuuri whispers, looking down as he balls his hands into his shirt._

_“Our flight is tomorrow,” Victor says, face impassive. “I…you always knew I couldn’t stay, right, Yuuri?”_

_“Well, yeah, but…” Yuuri closes his eyes. He may be only six, but he’s strong, so he puts on his best poker face and looks back up. “Okay. I wish you all the best.” Then he starts to walk away, because he may be strong, but he also really wants to cry right now._

_“Yuuri,” Victor says, stopping him in his tracks, a hint of desperation tinging his voice. “Remember our promise? We’re connected, remember? Even if I’m not here.”_

_“…Yeah. For always, right?”_

_“For always.”_

He wakes up with a start as a flight attendant announces, “We’re beginning our final descent into Beijing. Please put your tray tables in the upright and locked position—”

“Hey, Victor,” he hisses. “It’s time to wake up.”

Victor opens his eyes slowly, blinking blearily. He looks beautiful. Yuuri squashes that thought right away, because he knows he can’t have this, not really. 

“Yuuri,” Victor says with a growing smile. “We finally slept together.”

Yuuri squawks and shoves Victor. “Shut up!”

“Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“Seriously, Victor! Shut up!” 

(And maybe Yuuri can’t have this forever, but he can have this moment, right now, and that will have to be enough.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry for the angst on this day of joy
> 
> these silly boys really need to learn to communicate smh


	12. Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for alcohol use

As soon as they land and finish their pre-event interviews, Victor insists on going out to get hotpot, which was clearly code for ‘getting very drunk’, because he is now very drunk. Phichit is across the table texting Leo and asking him to come by with Guang-hong in tow. Celestino is already passed out—apparently he’s a major lightweight—and Victor is in the process of fumbling out of his shirt, murmuring, “itchy, yes, get out of the itch, no more itches for me”. Yuuri just rolls his eyes.

“You’re surprisingly cool with the hottest bachelor in figure skating stripping next to you,” Phichit comments lightly.

“It’s not like this is the first time I’ve seen him naked,” Yuuri says without thinking too hard about it.

“Well, that confirms a few suspicions,” Phichit says mildly. 

Yuuri goes over their recent conversation in his head and groans. “Not like that, Phichit, jeez.”

“I’m sorry, how was I supposed to take that, exactly?”

“He’s just a spontaneous nudist,” Yuuri says dismissively, then pauses. “Wait, what suspicions?”

“There’s been a betting pool going around as to whether you guys are together. Or want to be, at the very least.”

“Which you started, I bet,” Yuuri grumbles. 

“Oh, obviously. So are you?”

Yuuri scowls. “We’re not. We’re friends, that’s all.”

Phichit takes a measured sip of his drink. “Is that really all?”

Victor pipes up, “Best friends. Forever and ever.”

“See?” 

“Friends…who sleep together,” Victor says, nodding thoughtfully. “On planes.”

Phichit raises his eyebrows, an amused grin fighting to take over his face.

Yuuri drags his hand over his face. “Again, not like that.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Yuuri sticks out his tongue at Phichit as Victor apparently decides that he’s cold and presses up against Yuuri. “You,” he declares, “are soft. And warm. Like…like mashed potatoes.”

“Thanks, Victor,” Yuuri says tiredly. 

It is to this scene that Leo and Guang-hong arrive. Yuuri waves awkwardly. “Sorry, he’s really drunk.”

“Oh, uh…no, it’s fine,” Leo says, pursing his lips together.

“At least it’s only his shirt,” Guang-hong jokes ineffectually.

Victor brightens. “You have,” he tells Guang-hong sincerely, “the best ideas.” Then he starts to unzip his pants.

“Victor, really,” Yuuri says grumpily. “You could wait until we get back to the hotel room at least.”

Phichit smiles into his hand, and Yuuri shoots him a dirty look.

Victor sighs dramatically. “Yuuri, I am entirely too autistic for these pants right now,” he informs him testily. “So I am going to have no more pants instead. Is that _okay_ with you, Mr. No Fun Face?”

“No, actually. Like, not at all.”

“I’m going to do it anyway,” Victor says decisively, or as decisively as one can when slurring all one’s consonants and ducking under the table to pull off one’s pants. And, look, there go his underwear too. Lovely. Yuuri stares helplessly at a smirking Phichit.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathes into Yuuri’s ear. “Why aren’t you looking at me, hm?”

“Because you’re naked!” Yuuri hisses.

“You’re always looking away, Yuuri,” Victor says quietly. “I want you to look only at me.”

Yuuri turns red. “Okay,” he squeaks, clearing his throat. “It’s clearly time to get going. Victor, put back on your clothes, or we’re never sleeping together again. Everyone, it’s been lovely.”

He hurries a dressing Victor out as Phichit, Guang-hong, and Leo stare after him.

“I change my bet,” Leo finally says.

“Good choice,” Phichit says cheerily. 

\------------------------------

Victor is surprisingly sparkly in the morning for the amount of alcohol he imbibed last night. “Yuuri! Ready to skate your way to a medal?”

Yuuri stares at the wall, unseeing. “Huh?”

“It’s too early in the day to self-destruct,” Victor chides. “You’re going to go out there and skate your best, and you’re going to do a wonderful job. Now put on your shirt. I’m not complaining, but—”

Yuuri snorts. “Hypocrite.”

“There’s the mouthy Yuuri I know and love,” Victor says with a bright grin, patting Yuuri’s head affectionately. “Come on.”

Yuuri finally finishes getting dressed and makes his way to the rink with Victor. Victor chats about nothing the entire way there, and while Yuuri doesn’t have it in him to respond, he appreciates the calming white noise all the same.

He’s starting to think he might actually be able to do this when Christophe Giacometti walks into the room and squeezes Yuuri’s butt, casually, like it’s a thing people do. “Yuuri,” he drawls. “Hello.”

Yuuri screeches and nearly elbows Chris in the face. Victor looks vaguely as though he wishes he had done just that. “Chris!”

He ignores the exclamation, moving over to Victor. “Victor, when are you going to come back to the ice? I can’t get motivated without you.”

“Oh, you’ll manage, I’m sure,” Victor waves off, his smile slightly cold. “Pardon me, I see some friends.”

Yuuri can hear the ‘friends’ talking to Victor about how they want him back, how he shouldn’t be with a nobody like Yuuri. Their words eerily parallel his own thoughts. He looks down.

Chris’ hand comes down hard on his shoulder. “Hey,” he says. “What is Victor doing with you?”

“Coaching me?”

“No, what is he doing with you? He’s never been like this before. It’s not like him to just drop ice skating.”

Yuuri stays quiet. Chris continues.

“Really, he should just come back and stop playing at being a coach. Keeping him all to yourself is a grave sin, Yuuri. Everyone who knows him knows that he’s better off skating.”

Yuuri smiles politely, but his eyes are like daggers. “Really, because you know him so well?”

“What?”

“It’s really presumptuous of you to assume you know anything about what’s best for Victor, or about what he’s really like, or about what he’s doing. I’m the one who knows Victor best. Don’t forget that, okay?”

He walks away, calling after him, “Victor, let’s get going.” Chris gazes in the direction they left before smiling.

“Well, that’s interesting.”

Meanwhile, Yuuri is freaking out, just a bit. Did he really just say that? It’s honestly a bit blurry. He just got really—angry, maybe? No, that’s not the right word, precisely. 

Then it hits him. Jealous. He was jealous of all of these people that knew Victor during the seventeen years they weren’t together, and a part of him just screamed out that Victor was his, his friend, his coach, his—

He stops in his tracks. Victor asks him something, but he doesn’t hear.

But he’s not, is he? Not his. Does he seriously think that a grand total of ten months, not even a year, means Victor belongs to him? That ten months will mean anything at all when Victor finally leaves? 

He bites his lip.

“—ri? Yuuri. What’s wrong?”

“Just nervous,” he responds on autopilot. “It’s nothing.”

Victor lifts up his chin and looks into his eyes searchingly. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Victor frowns. Then he draws Yuuri into a big hug. “I can’t make you tell me,” he whispers. “So I’ll just hug you. But please know that if you ever want to tell me about something that’s bothering you, I’m here.”

Crap. Victor may not be his, but right now, he really wishes he were. He wishes he could monopolize the warmth of this hug and Victor’s sincere eyes. Because Victor might not be his, but he’s starting to realize that even when Victor leaves, a part of him will always be Victor’s.

He doesn’t say any of that. He just mumbles, “Thanks,” and maybe he hugs back a little too tightly, but that’s between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> resident autistic turns yet another character autistic with magic wand; readers groan, "Not Another One," they say, "Yes Another One," author responds (i've actually been writing him as autistic this whole time tho, there are hints)
> 
> more angst, but it will be resolved next chapter. sort of. part of it.


	13. No, I Won't Let Go

Victor excuses himself to go somewhere or other, and Yuuri heads over to the viewing area to watch Phichit on the small screen. Phichit is skating to a song from his favorite movie, one he’s been waiting to perform to until he can ‘do it justice’, or so he’s said. 

As he watches Phichit, who looks like he’s having the time of his life out there on the ice, he remembers what Victor said, about having to learn to appreciate skating on his own terms. Has Yuuri really ever done that? He loves skating, but he’s always tried to skate for other people. His family, his fans, even the people who hate him. Victor, especially Victor. Seeing Phichit skating like he’s actually having fun, Yuuri resolves to skate for himself. At least just this once. He owes himself that much, doesn’t he?

Guang-hong is next, but Yuuri doesn’t watch. He’s already made his decision, and now he needs to put his all into preparing for his skate. 

Time passes quickly, and soon enough, Victor is seeing him off to the ice.

“Yuuri?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to do wonderfully. Just do it like you’ve been doing in practice, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Victor.” Yuuri bites his lip, then holds out his pinky. “For good luck?”

Victor smiles softly, then links his pinky with Yuuri’s, at the last moment reaching out to clasp his entire hand. He strokes his thumb over the back of Yuuri’s hand. “Good luck.”

Yuuri smiles back, then turns to skate away.

Victor watches, but inside his heart is dropping. Because when Yuuri extended his pinky to him, face open and vulnerable, Victor was overtaken with the sudden desire to kiss him. And not at all in a platonic way.

Crap.

_Crap._

Yuuri, of course, isn’t privy to Victor’s emotional struggles, so he takes his place in the center of the ice. One hand raises in the air, fluttering, then the other, lifting over his head.

He closes his eyes and lets the music wash over him. This is his song, his time to show the world what he’s made of and how much he’s grown. 

Victor puts aside his roiling thoughts to watch Yuuri (and really, that should have been a hint to him earlier, that he’s never been able to tear his eyes away when Yuuri is around) in what is surely his best performance yet. He doesn’t miss a single jump, and his artistic interpretation is excellent.

Sure enough, when Yuuri is done and the scores are totaled, he’s reached a new personal best score, and at the end of the day, he’s in first place.

Seeing that, all of Yuuri’s resolutions, all of his newfound self-confidence completely washes away. He’s never been the one to beat before, and the pressure is debilitating. He spends the entire evening tossing and turning.

(Victor spends the night awake as well, thinking about something quite different, but Yuuri doesn’t know that.)

He’s a wreck in the morning, bags under his eyes and face pale. Victor takes one look at him and declares it naptime. Yuuri sleeps—sort of—but it’s not enough to make up for an entire night and a metric ton of stress.

Yuuri is trying to burn off nervous energy by running in place when he notices Victor isn’t there. He frowns and starts to look for him. He’s about to round a corner when he hears a muted conversation.

“—don’t know what to do, Yakov—”

“—should take responsibility. Coaches and skaters can’t—”

He inches closer. Victor and Yakov are talking in rising voices in an isolated area of the building.

“He’s not just my skater, he’s my best _friend,_ Yakov. I can’t just—”

“You can, and you will. If you want my respect, the respect of _anyone_ in the skating world, you’ll resign as his coach immediately.”

Yuuri gasps, and the two men immediately stop talking.

“Who’s there?” Yakov demands.

Yuuri steps out from the safety of the corner, lip trembling.

Victor goes white. “Yuuri, how much of that did you hear?”

“I heard the part where you’re going to leave me again.” An errant tear falls from his eye, and he swipes at it angrily. “I guess I always knew that’s how it was going to go, though.”

Victor’s eyes widen. “Yuuri—”

Yuuri doesn’t want to listen to any more. He doesn’t just walk away—he runs. He runs, rounding corner after corner until he’s completely lost. He eventually finds himself in the garage and hunches down on the ground, the tears coming hot and fast now.

Who was he kidding? He hasn’t changed. He is exactly the same kid who cried over Victor leaving all of those years ago. But it’s worse this time, somehow, different in a way he can’t quite pin down. Victor has become so much more to him than he was even when he was Yuuri’s entire world. The thought of him saying goodbye leaves a violent ache in Yuuri’s chest.

He hears labored breathing behind him. “Yuuri, wait!”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” he yells out, his voice ringing in the large space. 

“Yuuri, just because Yakov tells me to do something doesn’t mean I’ll do it!” Victor protests. 

Yuuri whirls around, furious now through his sadness. “Really? Even if it means the respect of everyone in the skating world?”

“Yuuri, you have no idea what we were talking about.” Victor’s eyes are filled with hurt and regret. “If you’d just let me explain—”

“No. I don’t want your explanations or your placations or your—your lies, Victor! Try looking me in the eye and telling me that you’re not leaving.”

Victor steps closer, reaching out his hand as if to take Yuuri’s, but pausing in the middle of the space between them. He looks directly at Yuuri.

“I swear on all that is important to me that I’m not going to leave you, Yuuri. Not again. Not after waiting for so long to find you, not after getting to know you, not after—” He presses his lips together. “I don’t care about the skating world, I don’t care about Yakov, I care about you. I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Yuuri stares back, chest heaving, eyebrows knit together with a thousand jumbled emotions.

Finally he whispers, “Do you mean that?”

“Of course, Yuuri. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“Then what were you talking with Yakov about? I don’t get it.”

Victor closes his eyes. “It’s not a lie to say that I’m not ready to answer that question. I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s…I can understand that.” Yuuri takes a deep, slightly shuddering breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’m not going to say I completely believe you. But,” he continues before Victor’s face falls, “I also have deep-seated trust issues, and an anxiety disorder, and neither of those things are your fault. So. I won’t say I believe you, but I can say that I will try to.”

Victor’s eyes crinkle up as he smiles. “Thank you.”

Yuuri looks around quickly, then hesitantly hugs Victor. Victor sighs into Yuuri’s neck, relishing in how right this feels.

“Victor?”

“Mm?”

“We should probably get going.”

“Just another few seconds.” He squeezes Yuuri tighter, then says speculatively, “Minutes?”

Yuuri laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

But he doesn’t let go, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh idk if ive said this recently but i really just love all of u? like it's amazing to me that there are so many ppl that are willing to read my work much less to comment and. idk. u guys make me so happy so thank you!!


	14. I Always Am, I Always Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for sexual innuendo

Eventually, they both make their way up the stairs and to the rink, where Georgi is just finishing up his routine. Yakov is there watching, but he looks away for just a moment to raise an eyebrow at Victor, who has his arm slung casually around Yuuri’s shoulder. Victor just gives a silly grin and a minute shrug in response, to which Yakov rolls his eyes and returns to watching Georgi. 

“All right, this is it,” Victor says seriously. “You can do this. I believe in you.”

“I’m just not so sure I believe in myself,” Yuuri mutters. Victor hears him though—he always does—and smiles gently, patting Yuuri’s back.

“All you have to do is show everyone the you I see. There’s nobody who can see that and not fall in love. With…your skating.”

Yuuri tilts his head inquisitively at the odd pause, but lets it go. “Thank you, Victor.” On a sudden whim, he leans forward to press his forehead against Victor’s. “Watch me, okay?”

Victor turns a delicate shade of pink and draws back, coughing lightly. “I always am.”

“Okay.” Yuuri starts to skate away, then remembers and turns back, holding out his pinky.

Victor smiles fondly and links their pinkies together. “Good luck.”

Yuuri skates to the center of the ice, and the music starts. He feels less nervous after his conversation with Victor, but the pressure is still present. 

He lands his first jump, the quad-double toe loop combination, without any issues. His next jump, the quad Salchow, also goes well enough, which is a surprise. Triple loop, then the choreographic sequence.

He touches down on the triple axel, but he takes a deep breath and tries not to let it get to him. Triple flip, triple axel, single loop, triple Salchow combination—he over-rotates, but that’s okay— triple lutz and triple toe. 

_Possibly, we’ve realized, we were only scared_  
_Oh… wherever we go, we’ll always be free_

His thoughts pause for a moment. He has been scared all this time. Of disappointing those that are dear to him, of not being good enough, not being strong enough.

But.

He is free, in the end, isn’t he? He’s free to construct his own definitions of success, of what it means to be strong. 

He looks at Victor, who’s watching him intently from the side. Victor, who’s always made his own way, who’s always told Yuuri that being himself is enough. 

In a split-second decision, he decides. He’s going to make his own way, too. He’s going to make people see him.

He turns his quad toe loop into a quad flip. He falls, but gets enough rotations.

The audience claps and whoops, astonished, and Yuuri ends his program.

_We cannot connect well, but still we laugh_  
_Oh… we’re waiting for the same rainbow._

As they continue to cheer, Yuuri looks for Victor. Where is he? Is he mad that Yuuri deviated?

He finally spots Victor, who is running over to the entrance to the ice. Yuuri skates over to him, beaming, cheeks flushed from exertion.

“Victor! I did great, right?”

“Come here.” He holds out his arms. Yuuri skates into them, expecting a hug, but instead, Victor softly kisses him on both cheeks, then the forehead. Yuuri turns red, staring at him in shock, but it’s a foreigner thing, right? 

“You were amazing,” Victor whispers. “You finally let everyone see you.” 

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Yuuri says, looking away out of embarrassment. “I was thinking of you the whole time, actually.”

Victor’s eyes widen slightly, and he steps back, murmuring something in Russian.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Victor says airily, but with a smile that looks almost pained. “Come on, they should be announcing your scores soon.”

Phichit wins gold, and Yuuri gets silver. (Chris, for the record, gets bronze.) Victor gives a few interviews about how Yuuri’s definitely going to win at Rostelecom, and they leave for Russia. 

(Victor is oddly excited about the plane flight, especially given that he doesn’t like flying coach. Yuuri doesn’t get it until Victor, eyes gleaming, lays his head down on Yuuri’s shoulder as soon as they get on the plane.

“Really?” Yuuri asks, amused.

“I’ve been waiting for this ever since last time,” Victor says happily, snuggling in further pointedly. 

Yuuri’s mouth quirks, and he looks out at the window so that Victor can’t see his quiet smile. “Okay.”)

When they get to the hotel they’re staying at, Victor is immediately accosted by reporters asking about his future plans and how he feels returning to Russia. He responds with his usual aplomb, and Yuuri gives an apologetic wave before slipping away. He really doesn’t like dealing with the press.

At the elevator, he encounters some of his fellow competitors, who all start yelling at each other. He awkwardly sidesteps the drama and calls another elevator. Just as the door is about to slide shut, though, Yuri Plisetsky shows up. 

Yuuri brightens. He doesn’t really know anybody at this competition, but he does know Yuri. “Yuri, hey! I’ve been wanting to talk to you—”

“Why? You going to give me a hard time for the picture thing? I’m not going to apologize.”

Yuuri pauses, startled. “No, I get why you did that. Besides, he knows now anyway, and it all worked out, so…”

“What? Did you finally suck it up and tell him?”

Yuuri purses his lips. “Uh, no, Yuuko did.”

“Oh. So that’s why she wanted the photo album.” He stretches, looking bored. “I’m not going to congratulate you either.”

“I didn’t think you would. I just wanted to say hello, and, um…thank you, sort of? I really appreciated you taking me seriously as a competitor in that event, and I hope you’ll do the same in this event as well, so—”

Yuri stares at Yuuri. “I don’t get you. What, are you asking me to go all out? Because I was already going to do that, and I’m going to crush you. I’m going to make Victor stay here in Russia and he’s going to be my coach and—”

Yuuri stares back, then asks, deadpan, “Are you sure you’re not in love with him?”

“No!” Yuri screeches, turning a violent shade of red. “Stop projecting your emotions on me! I’m fifteen!”

Yuuri sputters. “I’m not projecting, I’m—”

“Sure. Seriously, I don’t care if you two are together—”

“We’re not!” Yuuri says desperately, turning the same shade of red. “Why does everyone think—”

“—but could you tone down on the PDA? It’s disgusting.”

“There is no PDA! We’re friends—”

“I reiterate, sure,” Yuri says sarcastically. “Like we don’t all see the way you look at each other.”

“We look at each other in a friendly way!” Yuuri exclaims, flustered. “Like two friends who do friend stuff—”

Yuri smirks. This is fun. “Friend stuff like banging?”

“You’re fifteen, you shouldn’t be saying stuff like that,” Yuuri says, frowning, cheeks still aflame. 

“You’re twenty-three,” Yuri throws over his shoulder as he exits the elevator on the floor below Yuuri’s. “You should be old enough to recognize when someone wants to b—excuse me, where are my manners? Have copious amounts of sexual intercourse with you.”

Yuuri stares, mouth agape, as Yuri blinks innocently back at him, then grins viciously. “Anyway, just something to chew on. Or suck on, as the case may be. Bye, katsudon.”

The ride up to the next floor is silent, but Yuuri’s mind is roiling. Victor doesn’t like him like that, does he? And Yuuri definitely doesn’t like him like that either. 

Right. Yuuri nods decisively. They’re friends, and friends only, and Yuri is a punk who should probably be grounded.

And it definitely means nothing at all that Yuuri can’t get Yuri’s parting innuendo out of his mind all night. 

Yep. He’s glad that’s settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these three boys
> 
> a reminder that i have a fanwork (fic/art) giveaway going on rn if u want to enter! [here](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com/post/154006472231/yuri-on-ice-fanwork-giveaway)
> 
> EDIT: 4 the record what Victor said in Russian was, "I really wish I could kiss you for real right now."


	15. Like Spring

The time for Yuuri’s routine comes entirely too soon, and the crowd isn’t even paying attention to him. They’re paying attention to Victor, chanting his name, and Victor is smiling and waving back.

It pisses Yuuri off. He wasn’t able to get as much sleep as he should have because he was thinking about what Yuri said, and now Victor isn’t even owning up to it by focusing on Yuuri. Not that he knows what Yuuri was thinking about, to be fair, but Yuuri isn’t really interested in being fair right now. 

He tugs on Victor’s shirt, but when that doesn’t work, he tugs on Victor’s tie, yelling, “Hey!”

Victor turns, surprised. “What?”

“Stop…” he hesitates. “Stop paying attention to everyone else right now, okay? Watch me.” Looking away, slightly embarrassed, he mumbles, “Please.”

Victor opens his mouth, then smiles, a strange look in his eyes. “Okay. I will.” He holds out his pinky, and Yuuri takes it, suddenly feeling better now that Victor has his eyes on him. _Where they belong_ , a traitorous voice in his mind whispers.

 _Shut up_ , he whispers back.

He takes his place on the ice, biting his lip. As the music starts, he wonders how much longer he can monopolize Victor’s attention. Sure, right now his eyes are firmly fixated on Yuuri, but what about after this season? What about if he loses here and doesn’t make it to the Grand Prix Final?

He’ll just have to skate so well that Victor can’t look away, he decides, pointedly not thinking about why this means so much to him. 

And skate well he does, to the extent that he’s actually satisfied with his performance for once. He skates off the ice, pleased, and passes Yuri.

Yuri looks between Victor, who has his arms open for a hug, and Yuuri, and smirks.

Yuuri scrunches up his face and shakes his head vehemently. 

Yuri raises a single, well-manicured eyebrow, and skates past.

“What was that about?” Victor asks curiously as he gives Yuuri a hug. “That was beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks. And, uh…it was…nothing.”

“You say that a lot,” Victor comments, but he’s still smiling. “Yuri looks good, doesn’t he? His hair is so long now.”

“Yeah!” Yuuri says, relieved to change the subject. “I’m excited to see how he’s refined his performance since Hot Springs on Ice.”

“Same.” They head over to the waiting area right next to the rink to check on Yuuri’s scores. “Let’s see, let’s see…Yuuri, 109.97 is amazing! You beat your own personal best again!” Victor is beaming. “I could kiss you.”

Yuuri turns red. “Huh?”

Victor’s eyes widen, and he hurriedly corrects, “Youuuuur skates! I could kiss your skates! Because…they skated so well! Good job, skates!”

Yuuri’s eyebrows wrinkle. “I was the one in the skates, but okay.”

“What, do you want a kiss too?” Victor teases, but there’s a gleam of something else in his eyes.

Yuuri draws back. “No! Obviously not!”

“Oh. Right.” 

They stare at each other, then look away. Yuuri sees Yuri, who raises his other eyebrow, looking very much done with the entire situation, and then makes a lewd hand gesture.

Yuuri blanches. Definitely grounded, that one.

Victor follows Yuuri’s gaze, but Yuri is just blinking innocently now. 

“Yuri! Good luck!” Victor shouts, waving obnoxiously. 

“Yeah, Yuri, good luck!” Yuuri yells, because Yuri may be a punk, but Yuuri hopes he does well anyway. Plus, it has the added bonus of making Yuri scowl and turn away, and Yuuri takes pleasure in small victories.

Yuri does fairly well, only missing one jump, but he looks less lonely and more irritated. The ending scores put Yuuri in second place, Yuri in third, and Jean Jacques Leroy in first place.

But Yuuri isn’t focused on that.

“Yuuri?” comes Mari’s worried voice through the phone. “Makkachin stole some steamed buns and they got stuck in his throat. We got him to the vet as soon as we could, but we don’t know if he’s going to make it. What do you want us to do?”

Images of Yuuri’s dog, Vicchan, flash through his mind. He immediately turns to Victor. “Victor, Makkachin is sick. You have to go back to Japan.”

Victor inhales sharply, then shakes his head, looking pained. “No, I can’t. Your free skate is tomorrow—”

“I’ll be all right. Makkachin needs you, Victor.”

“I promised I wouldn’t leave you!”

Yuuri steps closer, puts his hand on Victor’s cheek softly. “Victor. I believe you, okay? So believe me when I say that I’ll be fine.”

Victor looks at him and swallows. Then he nods, once, slowly.

Yuuri starts to remove his hand, blushing slightly at his forwardness, but Victor puts his hand over his.

“Yuuri,” he says quietly. “You know when Yakov and I were talking earlier?”

“…Yes?”

“Well—” His gaze drifts over his shoulder, and he steps back hurriedly. “Yakov!”

Yakov is frowning, Yuri behind him.

“Yakov, I—I need your help. I have to go back to Japan. Will you coach Yuuri tomorrow in my place? Just for one day?”

Yakov says something in Russian, frown intensifying.

Victor responds, also in Russian, a hint of desperation tinging his voice. Yuri’s jaw drops, but Victor continues, unabashed.

Yakov glares at Victor for a long time, but finally he sighs, looking resigned. “All right, Yuuri. Looks like you’re with me tomorrow.”

They work out a few more details, then Victor pulls up an airline app on his phone and purchases a one-way ticket to Japan. The soonest flight is in about five hours.

Yuuri sits with Victor in his room as he packs, the silence overbearing as Victor finishes and sits down heavily on his bed, head in his hands.

Yuuri sits next to him hesitantly, placing an arm around Victor’s shoulder. Victor turns into the contact, hugging Yuuri.

“I don’t know what I’ll do if he isn’t okay,” Victor whispers, voice thick with emotion. “For a long time, all I had was him, ice skating, and Yakov. And now I have you too, but—here I am, and I’m failing you too, and—”

“Victor. You can’t think that way.” Yuuri strokes Victor’s hair soothingly. “You’re not failing me. I don’t know what will happen next, but—I’ll be by your side too, you know? I’m not leaving either.”

Victor looks up, unshed tears bright in his eyes. “You mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Good, because—I don’t think I could take it if you left too.” His lip starts trembling. “Everyone always leaves, Yuuri. My parents, my friends—”

“Not me,” Yuuri murmurs into Victor’s neck. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s saying anymore, but it feels right. “Never me. We’re connected, remember? For always.”

Victor nuzzles into him, tears falling now and wetting Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri just cradles him, one hand in his hair and one rubbing up and down his back, rocking back and forth. He can only think about how much he wants Victor to be happy, and how much he wants their words to be true, that they’ll always be together, connected like the universe meant them to be one rather than two.

At first, he doesn’t really have a name for that feeling. But then the realization hits him soft and slow, blooming in him like the warmth of spring.

He’s in love with Victor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp looks like that happened
> 
> a lil doodle of yuri being Done [here](http://anuninterestingperson.tumblr.com/post/154098439656/quick-doodle-to-illustrate-what-yuri-is-like-in-my)


	16. What We Need

It’s not like him loving Victor changes anything, really. Victor still leaves. The night still goes on. The day still dawns, fresh and bright. But Yuuri feels Victor’s loss more keenly now that he has a word for how he feels. Everything seems muted somehow without Victor by his side, without Victor’s cheerful voice and the warmth of his hand entwined in Yuuri’s.

He knows he should get over it. It’s not the time to be distracted. Victor needs him to win this, to prove that he wasn’t just taking a year off for nothing. Yuuri needs himself to win this, to prove to himself that he can.

But all of that doesn’t really matter, all of the justifications and reasoning behind why he should stop thinking about Victor. The fact is, he can’t. He’s never been able to stop thinking about Victor, not really, not for all the ‘should’s in the world.

So. He thinks about Victor, and he does his stretches alone, and he sort of listens to Yakov’s pre-skate pep talk—he thinks that’s what it was intended to be, anyway. He looks out at the ice, and for a moment, his vision blurs. Can he really do this? Has he been fooling himself all this time, thinking he would ever manage to surpass Victor, to even reach his level, when the instant Victor leaves he becomes like this?

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri whirls around. “What? I’m fine.”

Yakov frowns. “And you’re an awful liar. I have someone on the phone for you.”

Tilting his head in confusion, Yuuri takes the proffered phone. 

“Yuuri,” comes Victor’s relieved voice. “I caught you just in time.”

“Victor!”

“I couldn’t let you go out there without talking to you first, but now that we’re here, I don’t really know what to say.” Victor laughs self-deprecatingly. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…it’s good to hear your voice.” Yuuri bites his lip, feeling on the verge of tears. 

“You too.” Victor clears his throat. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Not really. I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was with you too. But it’s okay, right? Because you’re strong. You don’t need me.”

_Victor finds Yuuri curled up in the corner of a small, forgotten room of Ice Castle Hasetsu._

_“Hey. I’m about to leave for the train station.”_

_“Then go.” Yuuri’s voice comes out muffled through the sniffling and Yuuri’s arms._

_“I just…wanted to say goodbye first,” Victor says hesitantly. “And to say that I’m going to miss you a lot.”_

_“Then stay.”_

_“I can’t.”_

_“But I need…I need you to stay, Victor! You’re my only friend. I need you.” Yuuri is crying now._

_“No, no you don’t. You’re so strong, Yuuri. You don’t need me.” Yuuri doesn’t notice, but Victor’s face crumples as he says it._

“You’re wrong,” Yuuri says. “You were wrong back then, and you’re wrong now, and you’ll continue to be wrong until you realize that I’ve always needed you more than anyone else.”

The surprise is evident in Victor’s voice. “Yuuri—”

“But I’m going to go out there and skate my best anyway. Because if I make it to the Grand Prix Finals, and I will, then you’ll have to stay by my side that much longer, and I can—I can make you need me as much as I need you.” There’s a hint of desperation in his voice. “So watch me, please.”

When Victor finally responds, he sounds like he can’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “That sounded sort of like a confession.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen. Then, before he can stop himself, he whispers, “It was.”

Then, blushing, he hangs up.

Yakov is staring at him with raised eyebrows. Finally, he grumbles, “You guys really are a matched pair.”

“Huh?”

“Not for me to tell,” he says cryptically. Yuri’s scores are announced, which means it’s time for Yuuri to take his place on the ice. “All right. Good luck.”

Yuuri doesn’t do as well as he would have with Victor there. Technically, he’s a mess. But artistically, he’s never felt the song more than that day.

_We’re waiting for the same rainbow._

Victor is waiting for him under the same sky, and he’s going to come back to him. He promised. So he’ll skate for him, and maybe Victor won’t feel the same, but that’s okay. He didn’t say it with the expectation of his feelings being reciprocated. He just wanted Victor to know that he was needed, was loved. Maybe there are better people to love Victor. But right now, the one in Victor’s life is him, and he’s going to take advantage of that for as long as he can.

Yakov chews him out afterwards. It’s nice, because it’s familiar. Victor does the same thing, after all. Anyway, Yuuri’s scores only barely take him to the Grand Prix Final, but he does qualify.

While waiting for his flight, Yuuri goes for a walk, just a little way away from the hotel. He stares out into the street.

He’s interrupted by a flying kick to the back.

“Hey, you annoyingly lovesick bastard,” Yuri says conversationally, like a dropkick is a normal greeting. Honestly, for him it probably is. “What the crap was up with that free skate, huh? You were awful.”

“You sure do know how to cheer someone up,” Yuuri mutters.

“What, you sad without your boyfriend here?”

Yuuri scowls, but doesn’t say anything further.

“You totally are,” Yuri realizes. “That’s almost sweet. Does he even know how gone you are on him?”

“I might have mentioned something today,” Yuuri says awkwardly. “Sort of on accident. On the phone.”

Yuri stares at him, then shakes his head slowly. “You’re hopeless. Someday you’ll be telling this story to your equally obnoxious children, and they’ll ask how did you and pops tell each other you loved each other, and you’ll say—”

“I sort of didn’t let him respond,” Yuuri mumbles. “I hung up before he could say anything. I still don’t know how he feels.”

Yuri’s eye twitches. “Are you fricking kidding me?”

“I was nervous!”

“No, I mean, the hangup was douchey, but I’m not surprised. I’m saying you seriously still think he doesn’t like you back? ‘Cause he obviously does.”

Yuuri snorts. “What, he told you during one of your daily sleepovers?”

“No, that’s your thing,” Yuri snaps back. “He told Yakov before he left for the airport, dork. In Russian. You were there too.”

Yuuri blinks. “What?”

“I have to do everything around here,” Yuri hisses, pulling out his phone and tapping something into Google Translate. “Look, see?”

Yuuri peers at the screen, then his eyes widen. 

“Congratulations, your crappy love story just got worse,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. “A one-sided phone conversation and Google Translate. Your kids are going to hate you.”

“I have to get to the airport,” Yuuri breathes.

“Yeah, sure. I just came here to bring you these.” Yuri tosses Yuuri a bag of pastries. “They’re katsudon pirozhki. It’s nearly your birthday, right?”

Yuuri pauses, then flashes Yuri a bright smile. “Thanks. You’re a lot nicer than you let on, you know.”

Yuri scowls. “You take that back.”

“Nope!” Yuuri sings, taking a bite of the pirozhki. “These are delicious.”

“I know, right?” Yuri enthuses, his scowl melting away as he beams. “My grandpa made them. He’s the best.”

“Tell him thanks.”

“Yeah. Anyway, don’t you have a plane to catch and a guy to smooch?”

“Yes. I’ll text you a picture, since you’re so obviously invested.”

“Don’t!” Yuri shrieks. “I will kick you in the _face_ , katsubastard, don’t even _think_ —”

“I’m going to do it.” Yuuri grins. “Thanks, Yuri.” 

Then he runs back to the hotel.

He manages to negotiate a sooner departure time, and then he’s on a plane. He texted his parents the change in his schedule, but he always heads to the train station by himself, so he doesn’t really expect much of anything to change.

Except.

Except Victor is there, waiting for him with Makkachin at his feet.

Except Victor sees him, and he looks disheveled and messy and still like the most beautiful thing Yuuri’s ever seen, and he gets up, and the expression on his face is terror and hope and everything all at once.

Except Victor is running towards him, and Yuuri is running too, and the door is opening and Victor is opening his arms for him and Yuuri dashes towards him and then they’re kissing, desperately, and through the haze of Victor and Victor here and Victor _kissing him_ , Yuuri only stops to wonder once why they haven’t been doing this all along.

He mentally shrugs. That’s not really important right now. He has, as Yuri so eloquently put it, a guy to smooch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT OCCURRED
> 
> btw sorry for taking a couple days off! i took a one-day break and then yesterday i wrote a fic for ep10 bc i was like...how can i write a chapter when real life is already so much better lol. so. anyway. but i'm back now!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading! tumblr is anuninterestingperson u should come talk to me about ice children


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